


house of cards

by kateandbarrel



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Community: het_bigbang, F/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-13 00:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kateandbarrel/pseuds/kateandbarrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mysterious time-traveler from the future appears, and he has some startling news: he is John and Elizabeth's son, and Atlantis is in danger. (Story takes place during season 2 of Atlantis, a short time after The Long Goodbye.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	house of cards

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the lj comm het-bigbang. Although I actually chose the 'little bang' option, which had a minimum of only 10,000 words, I ended up going way overboard with this story. :) 
> 
> Thanks to the lovely azuremonkey for the beta. <3 Much love to my friendslist, whose encouragement kept me going and allowed me to actually finish this monster.

The desk of a graduate student is a wild and organic thing. Covered with papers on every surface, containing small mountains of textbooks and gently sloping hills of partially graded papers, and littered with the refuse of too many coffee and candy bar breaks, such a desk is a constantly evolving landscape that moves with the ebb and flow of research and classwork. The desk of Daniel Jackson was no different, and was currently in such a state of messiness that it really did seem to him to be alive.

Daniel pulled on the chain of a small light teetering on the top of three books, two about pyramid construction techniques and one filled with transcripts of ancient hieroglyphs from Egypt, and sat down as a small pool of light spilled onto his working area. Although this area was little more than a one foot by one foot square section of desk that had a thinner layer of old papers and notebooks than the rest of his desk, it sufficed. Daniel propped open a book of Friedrich Schlegel's writings, preparing to settle in for a night of note-taking on the foundations of 19th century German literature. He spared a glance at the clock, which showed 10:47pm, and sighed inwardly. Sometimes he wondered whether he was fully sane when he decided pursuing double masters degrees at the same time as being a TA for two undergrad courses. But he enjoyed the academic life well enough not to complain too much.

At least, he did until a knock rang out on his front door just as he was putting pen to paper.

"God save me from undergrads," he muttered aloud, getting up to answer the door.

This wasn't the first time a student had come to his door in the middle of the night, and somehow, he doubted it would be his last. However, he didn't recognize the face of the man at the door when he opened it. Daniel rubbed his eyes behind his glasses and blinked at him. "Hello," he said, bemused. "Are you a student?"

"No," the man replied, pulling something from inside his coat pocket. "I'm not."

It happened too quickly for Daniel to react. There was a flash of bright light and a loud cracking noise, like electricity, and Daniel found himself on the floor. He hardly had time to wonder what had happened before darkness overtook him.

Daniel Jackson was dead.

****

John’s day hadn’t been going very well, and it was barely even 10 in the morning. First, he woke up with a crick in his neck, having knocked his pillow to the floor sometime while he slept. After he showered, he discovered he’d forgotten to do laundry in a while, and he had no clean shirts. (He had picked the cleanest one out of the dirty laundry he could find; it passed the smell test, more or less.) Then, he got to the mess hall a little late after the breakfast rush, and they were already out of the good maple sausage.

“It’s gonna be one of those kind of days,” he muttered to himself, looking around the mess hall for a good place to sit. He spotted Elizabeth by herself, with a cup of coffee and her nose stuck in a tablet. John brightened a little. Elizabeth was a better meal companion than most - especially Rodney, who tended to talk with his mouth full - and he made a beeline for her table.

“Is this seat open?” John asked even as he plopped down into the chair across from her.

Elizabeth briefly looked up from her tablet. “Good morning, John.”

“Getting a late start, too?” He he asked before jamming a forkful of eggs in his mouth.

“Hmm? Oh, no, I’ve been up for hours. This is just a coffee break.”

John shook his head at that. Elizabeth was the hardest worker he’d ever met in his life. It was part of what made her a great leader, but it also made him worry after her mental health sometimes. More times than not, she’d be still be up in her office by the time he was going to bed, and then she’d be awake the next morning long before he got up. He had a sneaking suspicion there’d been more than one occasion where she’d fallen asleep at her desk.

He tried to distract her as much as he could, but often when he invited her to some of the things going on around the city - movie night, poker games - she’d decline. John figured she accepted his offers around 1 out of 10 times he asked, but it didn’t discourage him. He had to keep trying, because those times she _did_ accept, he would usually be rewarded with one of Elizabeth’s beaming smiles when she finally unwound a little and let herself relax.

John bit into a piece of toast and studied her - which was pretty easy, as she was so engrossed in whatever she was working on. Sometimes she looked tired, but today she looked refreshed, even though she’d been awake for a while already. Things had been fairly stress-free around the city for a while, ever since they’d convinced the Wraith that Atlantis had been destroyed and contact with Earth had been established. It had certainly seemed to help in Elizabeth’s case, as some of the pressure had been lifted off her shoulders. Even _if_ she did have that weasley Woolsey and the IOA to answer to. The extra paperwork wasn’t fun for anyone (especially John since, he had to admit, he’d been kind of half-assing his reports before; the IOA wasn’t too pleased with him), but the extra support had set all their minds at ease, and he could see the effect most visibly in Elizabeth.

“Do you want to be there today?” Elizabeth asked him, breaking John out of his thoughts.

“For what?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “The scheduled check-in with Earth, at 1400 hours. That’s what I’m working on, some final revisions to my latest report.” She waved the tablet.

“Yeah, sure. Maybe Woolsey will have some more grammatical advice for me.”

Elizabeth raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Apparently, I use a lot of double negatives when writing my reports.”

“And he actually complained to you about it?”

“‘Just a reminder, _Colonel,_ these are official Air Force mission reports that are reviewed by the en- _tire_ IOA,’” John said primly, in a fairly good Woolsey impression.

Elizabeth chuckled. “He just needs something to complain about. If he doesn’t, then he isn’t doing his job. I’ll be sure to stick a few double negatives in my next report. Spread it around.”

John smiled and ate another forkful of eggs. Maybe the rest of the day wouldn’t be so bad.

***

“This is _bad,_ ” Rodney said, his face turning a shade or two paler.

“Rodney, please, calm down,” Elizabeth said sharply. “This wouldn’t be the first time nobody’s picked up when we’ve called Earth.”

Atlantis had been trying for ten minutes to dial Earth, at the appropriate time, and so far, no wormhole would engage.

“Maybe they’re using the gate for an emergency,” John piped up, though the bad feeling he’d had in his gut earlier that morning was returning. Elizabeth nodded at his suggestion.

“No, you don’t understand. It - it’s the wrong kind of energy feedback.” Rodney shook his head and typed frantically at his laptop, fingers flying.

“How so?” Elizabeth asked.

Rodney sighed. “When you dial a gate that’s in use, it sends back a certain signal to the originating gate to _indicate_ it’s in use -”

“A busy signal,” John cut in.

“ _Yes,_ ” Rodney shot John a look, irritated at being interrupted. “But the energy signal that’s coming back, it’s different. It’s acting like it’s unable to make a connection at all. Like, like -”

“A disconnection tone,” John interrupted again.

Rodney glowered at him. “Like the gate’s been buried.”

“What?” Elizabeth asked, shocked. “Are you sure?”

“Dead sure. The gate on Earth isn’t busy. It’s blocked.”

“Why would they do that?” Elizabeth asked.

“Who knows,” Rodney said, an edge of panic in his voice. “There’s been a number of incidents at the SGC with the goa’uld which almost made the general General order the gate to be blocked off.”

“Attacks?” John asked. He looked up at their own gate, which sat quietly in the middle of the room.

“To name one of _many_ reasons why the gate could be blocked. Hell, maybe they self destructed the mountain and the gate is buried under a thousand tons of rocks. There’s no way to tell.”

“There’s no need to panic. The Daedalus will be going back to Earth soon. They’ll find out what’s going on. It could just be a technical glitch.”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Yes, a glitch, I’m sure that’s it. I’m sure I have no idea what I’m talking about.”

Elizabeth ignored him, turning to John instead. “I want you to go back to Earth on the Deadalus. There might - “

An alert sounded from the computer, cutting her off.

“Oh no.” Rodney rolled his chair down the console to another monitor and tapped away. “Unknown ship incoming!”

“Get the shield up!” Elizabeth shouted.

“Too late,” Rodney said. “It’s almost on top - wait. Wait--,”

“What?” John asked.

“It’s a jumper.” Rodney laughed, a slight hysterical edge to it. “It’s just a jumper. Thank God.”

“We don’t have any jumpers out right now,” Elizabeth said, peering at the monitor, which showed the blinking dot of the jumper approaching the city.

“Ford?” John asked hesitantly.

“Ford, maybe. Maybe a handful of Wraith trying to trojan horse their way in here.” Rodney typed at the keyboard some more.

Elizabeth shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.” She tapped her earpiece and ordered a team of marines to the gate room.

“Why didn’t the computer recognize the jumper at first?”

“I don’t know,” Rodney said. “It’s got a weird energy signature.”

“Those weird energy signatures just won’t leave us alone today,” John muttered. _And neither will this bad feeling._

They tried to contact the ship, but received no response. However, whoever was piloting it seemed to know where they were going, expertly guiding the jumper into the city and coming down into the gate room. The marines moved up to surround the door, guns aimed and ready.

“I’m going down there,” Elizabeth said, but John put a hand on her arm.

“Wait. We don’t know what it could be. Let’s just wait until the door opens and we’re sure we didn’t just let a suicide bomber onto our front door.”

Rodney looked as if he had no intention of leaving his chair.

After a few moments, the door to the puddlejumper kicked into life and slowly opened. The marines shifted as a figure came into view: a lone male human. He had his hands raised, and appeared to have no weapons.

“I come in peace,” he said loudly, looking up over the marines’ heads and towards the console room. “I’ve come to warn you about a danger to Atlantis!”

Elizabeth exchanged a glance with John and the two of them went to greet their visitor.

He was tall, and had dark, short hair. He wore clothing that reminded John of the Athosians; beige cloth and strips of leather. His eyes were a bright green, and he focused them on Elizabeth, who was speaking.

“Hello. I’m Dr. Elizabeth Weir, the leader of - “

“I know who you are,” the stranger said, grinning. “I’d recognize my own mother anywhere.”

***

A pin could have dropped and the assembled 20-odd people in the room would have all heard it quite clearly.

John blinked. He looked sideways at Elizabeth, who was clearly taken aback by this claim.

“I’m - I’m sorry, but that’s - “

“Ridiculous,” John said, suspicious of the man’s intentions. “For starters, you’re like, thirty years old.”

“Yes, that - that’s a good point,” Elizabeth nodded, latching on to the logic of the statement. “On top of which I definitely don’t remember having a baby, so, you’ve obviously got me confused with somebody else.”

“I know this is a shock. But I didn’t have time to make this painless. I came to warn you not to send the Daedalus back to Earth. If you do, Atlantis will be destroyed.”

“What?” John asked, incredulous.

The man took a steadying breath. “You have to believe me. I’m from the future. And I’m your son.”

John realized the man was staring at him as he said this last statement. “Wait. No, you can’t mean what I think you mean.”

“Yeah, I do. My name’s Patrick Sheppard. Hi, Dad,” he said. “It’s good to see you after all this time. I just wish it were a bit happier of a family reunion.”

Elizabeth realized the marines were still at attention, so she waved them down. They pointed their guns at the floor but stayed in position.

“Rodney, get down here!” John shouted. “Take a look at this jumper.”

“It’s a time machine,” Patrick offered.

“Jesus, did they stamp those out at a factory, or what? There’s like a million of those things,” John said.

“Rodney,” Elizabeth said as he came to the circle of marines, looking nervous. “Don’t _go_ anywhere, but check that thing out. See if it’s really a time machine.” Rodney nodded and ran off to go fetch some equipment.

“Cautious as always, Mom.” Patrick smirked.

John startled. When the man smiled that way... it was almost like looking into a mirror. “Okay, this is weird,” he said.

“Agreed,” Elizabeth said. “Let’s go visit Dr. Beckett. Have him run some tests.”

“Make sure I am who I really say I am?”

Elizabeth cocked her head to the side. “Among other things.”

“It’s fine. You told me you’d do this. Lead the way,” he said. “Just, please, promise me you won’t send the Daedalus to Earth. That’s all I came here for.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath as she thought his request over. There was still so much she needed to know before she could make an informed choice. They still had no idea why they couldn’t contact Earth, but was sure this time traveller - if he was one - was probably somehow related. Either in a good way or a bad one. She supposed it was better to err on the side of caution, and to keep the Daedalus around for protection for Atlantis.

“Fine. We’ll keep the Daedalus here,” she said, and Patrick let out a breath. “For _now_. But I want a full examination done on you, and then I want a full explanation of exactly what’s going on.”

“It’s a deal,” he said.

***

Elizabeth sighed to herself. She’d been having such a good day. Everything had been quiet for weeks. Operations were running smoothly on Atlantis. She had been able to catch up on old paperwork and even made time for a little recreational reading. Not that the Atlantis database was recreational by most people’s standards, but it was a subject she found endlessly fascinating. Even reading old technical reports. They were still written thousands of years ago by an advanced civilization, and that was amazing to her, to have this connection to the past. To humanity’s own distant ancestors.

Elizabeth would rather have been off reading one of those reports right now instead of worrying about Earth and wondering if the stranger currently being poked by Carson was really her _son._ From the _future_. That she apparently had with _John Sheppard_ , her second in command. John _freaking_ Sheppard.

She straightened up slightly, suddenly hyper-aware of John’s presence next to him her as they both watched Carson doing his tests. Neither of them had said anything to each other yet, but she was sure John was thinking about the same thing she was.

Or, maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he thought it was such an outlandish idea that he was just waiting for Carson to provide the evidence to prove that this man was a liar. She was his boss, after all. The idea of the two of them getting together - ridiculous.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at herself. There were more important things to focus on right now. Such as how exactly sending the Daedalus to Earth would destroy Atlantis, and why they couldn’t contact Earth. She was sure Patrick - if that was his name - would have the answers.

John cleared his throat next to her. “You know,” he said, trying for cavalier but not quite making it. “My father’s name is Patrick.”

Elizabeth looked at John, not sure what to say.

“We don’t get along, though. I never thought I’d name a kid after him. Well, I never thought I’d have a kid, period,” he scoffed.

Elizabeth was saved from having to participate further in this conversation by Carson, who announced he was done taking his various samples and medical data, and needed to run tests.

“Put a priority on the DNA test, Carson.” Elizabeth said, and he nodded. “I’m going to go check on Rodney. John, stay here. Let me know when Carson’s done with his tests.”

John watched Elizabeth leave the infirmary, unsure what she was really feeling about this whole situation. She was visibly unsettled, but a lot of things had happened that day, and it was only lunch time, so that was to be expected. John crossed the room in order to speak with the stranger.

“So, kiddo, did you finish your homework? If you didn’t, you don’t get any dessert.”

Patrick laughed. “I’ve missed you, Dad.”

“Yeah, about that. Earlier you said something about seeing me after all this time. What did you mean?”

The smile slipped off Patrick’s face. “Well, you’re dead. You died when I was twenty. But you’re just how I remember you.”

“Oh,” John replied. “I’m... sorry.”

“Yeah. It’s okay. That was nearly a decade ago. And Mom kept your memory alive.”

John cleared his throat, glancing towards the doorway that Elizabeth had left through just a few moments ago. “Right. That part’s just a little hard to accept. Elizabeth -– Dr. Weir and I, we don’t... we’re not... together.”

“Not _yet_ ,” Patrick said.

“Right.” John tried to process that, but found it too difficult. He pushed it out of his mind for the time being. “So, how did I - how will I die?”

Patrick scrunched his nose. “I’m not sure I should tell you that. Timelines and everything.”

“You already told me I’ll knock up my boss one day, I’m not sure how much more the damn timeline could be affected.”

Patrick hopped down off the bed. “Here’s Dr. Beckett.”

Carson approached the pair and smiled. “Congratulations, Colonel Sheppard. It’s a boy.”

***

“I can’t believe it,” Elizabeth said, leaning against the side of the jumper, fingers against her earpiece. “Carson’s sure? _Absolutely_ sure?”

“Yes, I made him run it again.” John’s voice crackled in her ear. “Half of his DNA is mine, half is yours. He is exactly who he says he is.”

Elizabeth stared at Rodney hunched over the console in the middle of the jumper, jabbing at the tablet in his hand, her thoughts having vaporized and her mind going completely blank with this news.

“Elizabeth?”

“Yeah, okay. Bring him to the briefing room. It’s time for him to explain some things.”

“Are you okay? I know this is kinda... weird.”

Elizabeth grinned in spite of herself. “Understatement, John. Let’s just hear what he has to say. I’ll be there in five minutes. Weir out.” She tapped her earpiece again and turned to Rodney.

“Have some good news for me, Rodney.”

“It’s a time machine alright,” he replied giddily, his earlier panic completely forgotten. “Just like the one SG-1 used.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Okay. Figure out how to use it.”

“Are we going somewhere? Sorry - some _when_?” Rodney grinned at his own joke.

“Hopefully not. But I want to know all about this thing, just in case.”

Elizabeth left Rodney to his task and made her way to the briefing room. She found John standing outside talking with Ronon and Teyla. They moved aside slightly as she approached to make room for her to join their conversation.

“This is a lot to take in,” Teyla said.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me. Rodney confirms the jumper is indeed a working time machine.”

“Everything he’s said checks out,” John said.

“And he’s your kid?” Ronon asked skeptically, his eyes moving between John and Elizabeth.

“I don’t really care whose kid he is at the moment,” Elizabeth said, purposely avoiding John’s eyes while she said it. “I just want to know what he knows about Earth.”

She went into the briefing room, the others trailing behind her. Patrick was walking around the room, running his fingers along the wall. Two marines stood on either side of the doors, guarding him. Patrick turned around when he heard them file in.

“Teyla!” he said happily.

Teyla stopped in her tracks, shrewdly evaluating him. “Hello,” she said warily.

“It’s good to see you,” Patrick sat in a seat, and indicated they should do the same, though Ronon remained standing. “I know you all want to hear my story.”

Ronon walked up to him, and leaned over, his hands on the table, staring at Patrick. “Do you know me?”

Patrick refused to move even with Ronon’s nose just a couple inches from his own. “No, sorry,” he said, sound apologetic.

“Ronon,” he said his own name. “Ronon Dex.”

“Oh, Ronon, right,” Patrick replied. “No, I know of you, but - you weren’t with us.”

“With you?” Elizabeth asked.

“Let me start from the beginning,” Patrick said. “If that’s okay with you, Ronon.”

Ronon stayed where he was for another few seconds, then slowly stood and backed away. He picked a chair and slumped into it, his eyes never leaving Patrick’s face.

“First, answer a question for me,” Patrick said. “You were meant to contact Earth today but you were unable to make a connection, correct?”

Elizabeth tilted her head, surprised he would know that. “Yes, correct.”

“Then I arrived at just the right time. You’ll never be able to contact Earth again, because the gate is buried. There was an attack on Earth, a few days ago. Cheyenne Mountain was destroyed. Most of the population on Earth has been slain, or is now enslaved.”

“ _What?_ ” John exclaimed.

“You’ve heard of the Ori?” Patrick asked.

A chill ran up Elizabeth’s spine. “Yes, they’re new to the Milky Way galaxy. They control human settlements through fear and religion. You’re saying - “

“I’m saying that their whole goal was to take over the Milky Way, and Earth was a pretty big impediment to that. So they decided to take the planet out. They marshalled every resource they had and attacked Earth. And it was successful.”

Earth ravaged? The people of Earth decimated? Elizabeth shook her head, not wanting to believe it. “We should send the Daedalus to Earth,” said. “I know you said not to, but -”

“No, Mom, you _can’t_ ,” Patrick said.

“We have to send the Daedalus back. We have to find out if there’s survivors, if we can help!” John shouted.

“Please, if you send the Daedalus, then Atlantis is lost!” Patrick shouted back.

“How? Why?” Elizabeth asked, incredulously.

“Because sending the Daedalus is exactly what you did the first time. What my parents did, in my timeline. They sent the Daedalus to Earth, when the gate wouldn’t connect. What they found there was a mostly ruined Earth. They couldn’t even get any survivors off the planet. No time. The Ori engaged them in a fight and the Daedalus was almost destroyed. It barely made it back to Atlantis in one piece. The problem was, the Ori followed them here.”

Elizabeth swallowed. “The Ori let the Daedalus go, didn’t they?”

“Yes,” Patrick said. “They wanted to know where the ship had come from. So they followed the Daedalus until it led them straight here. With the ship already heavily damaged from the previous fight, and no backup from Earth, Atlantis didn’t last very long under the endless barrage from the Ori. Just a couple weeks.”

Patrick paused, looking around the room, slightly awed. “I’ve always wanted to see this place. It’s just as amazing as you told me it was. Atlantis was destroyed before I was born, when the Ori invaded Pegasus. They started converting the human settlements to their religion. And the people of Atlantis were on the run.”

“What about the Wraith?” Ronon asked.

“They fought against the Ori, but they had fewer ships than them. Less _powerful_ ships. Some of them are still around but it’s the Ori’s galaxy now.”

“You said we went on the run?” Elizabeth asked, prompting Patrick to return to the story.

“Yes. You all tried to stay together at first, but it proved too difficult. The Athosians - they didn’t want to run. They were tired of running. And they reasoned that the Ori were less of a threat than the Wraith. The Wraith eat people, but the Ori just want you to read their book. So most of the Athosians settled on one planet where they had friends. Some of the Atlanteans stayed with them as well. You stayed with my parents though, Teyla.”

Teyla raised an eyebrow. The idea of her people being willing to settle under the rule of these Ori sounded far-fetched, but she knew her people had grown settled and happy here. She knew returning to a lifestyle of running was not one that many would want, and perhaps, if there was an alternative to that... some might take it.

“Eventually, smaller groups split up, settling on different planets. Some willing to go along with the Ori, some struck off on their own. But you - Mom, Dad, you and the rest of the Atlanteans had a few jumpers, and so you managed to find a planet with a broken gate that was untouched by Ori or Wraith.”

“Who else was with us?” John asked.

“Teyla, as I said, as well as Dr. Beckett, Dr. McKay, Dr. Brown, Dr. Kusanagi, Major Lorne, Lieutenant Cadman, and Lieutenant Reed.”

“That’s it?” Elizabeth felt a hot emptiness in her stomach to hear that she couldn’t keep her people together. That only a few would be left to follow her in the end.

“I’m afraid so,” Patrick replied. “But it wasn’t so bad. I had a good childhood. Me and the other kids. There were a few scares, a few possible Ori sightings, but nothing ever came of it. We had a pretty tight knit family overall.”

“Other kids?” Teyla asked. “Who...?”

“I shouldn’t say. I only revealed who I was because I knew it was the only way to get you guys to believe anything I had to say.”

“It’s not like there’s really a timeline left to preserve,” Elizabeth said. “You’re already altering things drastically by giving us this information.”

“True, but when it comes to relationships and things, some things are better left to the thrill of discovery, I think.” Patrick smiled, a slightly lopsided Sheppard smile if Elizabeth ever saw one.

“So what happened?” John got them back on track. “Why did you come back in time now?”

“Well, now is when we found the time machine. We’d been exploring our planet my whole life. But even so, a whole planet with just a couple of jumpers still takes a long time to make a full examination. Especially with everyone spending most of their time just trying to survive on a wild planet. But eventually, we found it. Hidden in a cave.”

“Found the time machine?” Elizabeth asked.

“More than just the time machine. A whole lab. Abandoned, thousands of years ago obviously. But Ancient in design. The time machine was there, along with a few other things. The time machine was broken. It took Dr. McKay weeks to understand it, to fix it. But you knew what had to be done, Mom.”

Elizabeth blinked, taken aback every time this man called her that. “Oh?”

“Yeah. You knew you had to change the past. Undo what had been done. Earth is gone. But you can save Atlantis. Don’t send the Daedalus back. If you don’t, the Ori will never come here. They’ll never find this place. And you can all live here in relative peace.”

Everyone stayed silent, watching Patrick, absorbing his words.

“That’s what I came to tell you. Please, listen to me,” Patrick begged. “Save your people.”

Elizabeth stared at Patrick. Green eyes met green, and she found herself wanting to trust him. “Okay. Okay. Colonel Sheppard, tell Caldwell to get comfortable. He’s not going anywhere for a while.”

***

_Knock, knock._

Elizabeth looked up from the report she’d been looking holdingat - but not really seeing the past forty-five minutes - to see John standing awkwardly in her doorway. Elizabeth tried to smile in greeting, but it came out as more of a grimace.

“Hell of a story, huh?” John asked.

“That’s one way of putting it.” Elizabeth set down the report she wasn’t really reading anyway and focused her attention on John. “Caldwell wasn’t happy when I told him the Daedalus would be staying in orbit for the foreseeable future.”

“That guy’s never happy,” John replied. “He’ll get over it.”

Elizabeth just shrugged noncommittally, as she wasn’t sure _she_ would get over it, having to sit on her laurels while Earth was overtaken by a hostile alien race. “I’m not sure what the right thing to do is.”

“From what Patrick says, Earth has already fallen.” John’s voice was hollow with the meaning of his words. He rubbed a hand over his face and then slumped down in one of the chairs opposite Elizabeth. “I want to do everything I can to try to save Earth. But -”

“But we also have a responsibility to _this_ planet; this entire _galaxy_.” Elizabeth finished for him.

John nodded, chewing his lip. “I would be calling bullshit on this entire thing - if he wasn’t, you know, _who_ he is...” he trailed off.

“I still have trouble believing it, but, the evidence seems compelling.”

“Yeah, the time travel thing is a bit hard to wrap my brain around.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “The time travel is the one part that actually makes the _most_ sense to me.”

There was a silence between them, but not one of those easy, companionable silences they normally shared. Instead the quiet stretched between them as Elizabeth didn’t have the nerve to bring up _their son_ and John wasn’t sure if she’d brush him off again if he tried. So the subject sat heavy in the air, unspoken, but both of their thoughts were centered on it.

Eventually, John broke the silence. “So, we got - our _guest_ settled into guest quarters.”

“You stationed a guard outside?”

John nodded slowly. “Yes, though I’m not sure how necessary it is.”

“Until we get to know him a bit better, I think it’s very necessary.”

“Maybe we should get to know him, then,” John said hesitantly, eyes on Elizabeth’s face, gauging her reaction.

Elizabeth considered this - and in fact, she had considered this before - but some part of her was blaring an alarm bell in her mind. She questioned herself why she was so suspicious of the stranger when his story and DNA evidence all made sense, and her mind’s answer had been _mother’s intuition._ Which had then led to a very un-leader-like bout of verging-on-hysterical giggling to herself in her office. But there was only one way to figure out if this time traveler was for real.

John was watching her as she sorted through her thoughts, patiently waiting for her to come to a decision. She sighed. “Alright, why not. He might have other valuable information, right?”

“Right!” John agreed, smiling. “Exactly.”

“Do you believe him, John?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I think I do.”

“Dinner?”

“The three of us?”

Elizabeth nodded. “You collect our _guest_ , and meet me in the mess hall.”

They parted ways, giving Elizabeth a moment to remind herself to breathe. Eventually she left her office and made her way to the mess hall, her feet on auto-pilot while her mind turned the subject of Patrick over and over again in her head. She reasoned that first and foremost, she had a duty to Atlantis to automatically mistrust him due to the incredibleness of his story. Even so, she had to admit to herself maybe she just didn’t want to believe him because it meant admitting a few things to herself she thought were better left unacknowledged.

Elizabeth Weir, leader of Atlantis, having a kid with _John Sheppard?_ Of course, he was good looking. She’d noticed that immediately, but she had just broken things off with Simon, and was entirely focused on being the leader that Atlantis needed, so she hadn’t spared more than the odd admiring glance his way. As she’d gotten to know him, she had grown more appreciative of John as a person. She definitely enjoyed his company - even sought him out, to eat with, or watch a movie, or talk books (once she’d convinced him to give up on _War and Peace_ and try something a little less ambitious). And for some reason, his jokes seemed to make her laugh more than other people’s...

Elizabeth stopped dead in the hallway, nearly causing someone walking behind her to crash into her, as she realized that maybe having a relationship with John Sheppard was not something she was necessarily averse to. Although there were practical things to consider. Dating one’s subordinate was generally frowned upon, even for civilians. But, in some alternate future where Earth was gone and she was barely a leader anymore, with just a rag tag group of refugees - she could maybe start to understand how it would happen.

Elizabeth resumed her trek to the mess hall, her mind still swarming with realizations about her feelings. She picked up a tray, grabbed some food, then sat at the first empty table she found. She waited for John and Patrick to arrive before eating, and busied herself - somewhat nervously, she was irritated to note - by arranging and re-arranging the accoutrements on the table, eventually propping up a stack of napkins between the salt and pepper shakers.

“Taking on a new job as lunch lady?” John’s voice drifted over her shoulder as he and Patrick came around the table. The two of them sat across from her, side by side.

Embarrassed, Elizabeth stuck her hands in her lap. “Just waiting for you two.”

John and Patrick both smiled at her, with their matching grins, and Elizabeth momentarily felt as if she was viewing the world in Sheppard stereovision. She picked up her fork and speared a carrot to distract herself.

“So, Patrick,” John spoke first to break the ice, “got any hobbies?”

Patrick chewed thoughtfully. “I like to play the drums. Athosian drums,” he clarified. “When I was young, Teyla had me help her make a set. Then she taught me how to play.”

“Sounds interesting,” Elizabeth offered.

Patrick shrugged. “There wasn’t a _lot_ to do. We spent most of our time working. Farming, chopping wood, that sort of thing. But everyone liked music, so that’s usually what we did together in the evenings. Singing and dancing.”

“What’s your favorite song?” John asked. “Assuming it’s one I’d know.”

“You taught me lots of Earth songs,” Patrick said enthusiastically. “I think my favorite is _I Walk the Line.”_

“I taught you that?”

“That one was sort of indirectly. You used to sing it to Mom when I was younger. But the words always seemed so honest.”

Elizabeth looked at John, who wore a pained expression. “I can’t really sing,” he said.

“That never stopped you. Besides, mom liked it anyway.” Patrick grinned and took a bite of his meatloaf.

She tried to imagine John actually singing a song to her. The image that popped up in her mind made her giggle.

“See?” Patrick said.

Elizabeth flushed. “I just - I can’t imagine that.”

“Apparently you _can,_ and you think it’s really funny,” John said, pouting slightly.

“It is, a little.” Elizabeth grinned. “Admit it.”

“No!” John huffed, and hid behind his water as he took a drink.

The conversation went more naturally after that. Patrick shared stories of his childhood, related tales that John and Elizabeth and the others in their group had told him about Earth and Atlantis. He revealed that Elizabeth had gone to great pains to educate him as well as she could. He knew a fair bit of Ancient, and had gotten extensive tutoring from McKay in the areas of science and math. Elizabeth found herself feeling inklings of pride that she apparently had raised such a well-rounded child. Well, she and John.

Throughout their conversation, she had found her eyes frequently searching out John’s, trying to gauge his reaction to Patrick’s portrait of their life together. He seemed strangely subdued about it - for John - but Elizabeth thought she could detect some of her feelings reflected in him.

They had stayed sitting at the table in the mess hall long after they’d all finished eating. Eventually, Patrick unleashed a huge yawn. He apologized but Elizabeth waved it off - he’d had a long day. They all had, really. They ushered him off to rest with few protests.

Elizabeth watched his retreating form, and then that of the guard that followed Patrick around, her mind replaying bits of the evening’s conversation. Patrick was personable. Intelligent, a bit funny - he obviously had a touch of his father’s sarcastic sense of humor - and seemed to take after her in many areas. He wasn’t very good with a gun, but he’d spent long hours studying Ancient. Elizabeth reasoned that he was as perfect a son as anyone could ask for.

She dimly wondered if by his coming back in time and changing the course of the future - not going to Earth, not bringing the Ori to Pegasus - meant that Patrick would never be born. _Well, just because we’re still on Atlantis rather than stuck on some empty planet doesn’t mean we still couldn’t have a kid._ Elizabeth cleared her throat and moved to pick up her tray and leave the table, embarrassed at her line of thinking.

John shot out a hand to stop her, touching her briefly on the arm before pulling away. “Hey, can we - talk?”

Elizabeth stood there with her tray in her hands, acutely aware of the fact that even though there were just a few people still in the mess hall at this time, they were all pretending not to be staring at them. “We’ve been talking all night,” she said, attempting a light tone. There were a lot of emotions swirling around in her head right now, all kinds of images in her brain - not least of which was a certain activity that would be necessary for she and John to perform in order for Patrick to exist. What she needed was a cold shower and a good night’s sleep.

“I know, but - there’s something I want to tell you. In private.” He cast a significant glance to a couple people sitting three tables down, who suddenly became very interested in the their own trays of food.

Elizabeth sighed inwardly, but nodded in agreement. She left the table, trusting John to follow behind her to their usual private discussion spot.

***

John gripped the railing of the balcony, shifting from foot to foot, obviously perturbed by something. Elizabeth had let him have a moment to gather his thoughts, but now they were closing in on five minutes of silence and she was starting to feel sleepy and annoyed. It was a bit cold outside; the night air was free of clouds and so the day’s heat had long since dissipated. She tapped the railing with her fingers a few times, then leaned against it to face John.

“What was it you wanted -” Elizabeth began before she was abruptly cut off by John. Specifically, John’s lips. On _her_ lips. She was too surprised to form a thought outside of how surprisingly soft John’s lips were. Although not too surprising, she supposed - she had a vague memory of the kiss between Phebus and Thalen, though she hadn’t been paying too much attention to details at the time to really notice what John’s lips were like. Wait - why was he kissing her? She pushed at his shoulders and he pulled back, looking worried.

“What are you doing?” she asked, trying to ignore the phantom feeling of his lips on hers and the answering warmth that had sprung up in her stomach.

“Kissing you,” he said matter of factly, and Elizabeth could have laughed, because yes, that was a correct assessment, though not quite the explanation she had been hoping for.

“I’m your boss,” Elizabeth said. She cast an eye towards the door - but it was late now, just the night crew was working and they generally just sat in the control room rather than wandering around poking their head out doors.

John smirked. “Are we just gonna keep tossing facts at each other? The sky is blue, turkey sandwiches are the best sandwiches, McKay is an idiot, we have a son that’s come from the future, and you have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.”

The warmth in her stomach blossomed at his words, spreading up towards her chest. “Some of those are suppositions rather than facts.”

“Yeah I know, McKay’s not really an idiot. Just annoying.”

“I’m still your boss,” Elizabeth said, the words seeming to carry less weight with them each time they came out of her mouth.

“And if Earth has fallen to the Ori? Who’s _your_ boss, then? Who’s left to care what you do?” John said fiercely.

“Everyone who I command, whose respect I need to earn -”

“You earned everyone’s respect long ago,” John interrupted, exasperated. “I think everyone would rather see you happy.” John seemed to consider something. “Unless - I’m not the one that would make you happy. If that’s the case...” he trailed off.

Elizabeth laid her hand on his arm. Truth be told, if anyone would make her happy, it _would_ be John. He already made her happy, really, being her closest friend on Atlantis. She thought maybe she could be happy with him, in other ways, too. But it had always seemed inappropriate somehow, to date someone she also gave orders to.

She looked into his face. John had always had an expressive face, and at that moment he seemed to be a bundle of anticipation, of wanting, of hesitation - and a bit of fear. Elizabeth realized she hadn’t responded to his statement.

“I think -” she paused, took a breath. “I think you could make me happy.” It wasn’t so wrong to say that, right?

The relief on John’s face was palpable. Elizabeth wondered at that. They had a son from the future - wasn’t that practically a neon sign shouting through the night that _hey, you guys hook up and it works out?_ But Patrick had told them that only a handful of them escaped to that planet. Not many men to choose from - maybe John thought he was a partner of necessity, rather than desire? Elizabeth wasn’t sure what alternate future her was thinking ( _would be thinking?_ ) but she thought she knew her own nature well enough, and having a relationship just because there was no other choice didn’t seem like something she would do. Alternate future her wanted John, _would_ want John. _She_ wanted John.

She stepped closer to him, eyes traveling down to his lips. He licked them as she watched, and several dirty thoughts burst into her mind, forcing the heat in her chest to spread up to her cheeks. Elizabeth thought he would kiss her again, but he seemed to be waiting for her to make a choice. Well, fine. She could do that. It was literally her job to make decisions all day. And on the scale of potentially life destroying decisions, this one didn’t even make the needle move. She kissed him.

It was a slow kiss - exploratory. John let her take the lead. He waited until she parted her lips before deepening it. He didn’t touch her until she brought her hands up to thread through his hair, and then he gripped her by the waist, fingers digging in as though he wanted to drag her to himself, but was resisting for her sake. He was the picture of controlled restraint, and Elizabeth flushed as she wondered what that restraint would be like in bed. Would he fuck her slowly - make her beg?

Elizabeth pulled back, breathing hard, partly from the extended kiss cutting off her oxygen and partly from the increasingly sordid thoughts running through her mind. She was pleased to see that John looked as dazed by the kiss as she felt.

“That was - wow.” John’s voice was a bit husky, and Elizabeth thought that it sounded rather nice that way. “We should have done that a long time ago!”

Elizabeth laughed, and John pulled her in for another kiss, this one a bit more wild, but every bit as enjoyable as the previous one. His hands were more adventurous this time, the tips of his fingers running just under the hem of her shirt, brushing along the skin of her lower back and making her spine tingle. The chill of the night was nothing more than a memory, her whole body feeling warm from his touch. She pushed her own hands up under his shirt, running them up his back, fingernails lightly scratching as they went. That earned her a groan and John broke away from their kiss to press his mouth against her neck. Goosebumps broke out along her skin.

She thought she could have had sex with him right there on the balcony, that’s how far gone she was. Some part of her mind reigned in a modicum of control. “We should go somewhere,” she said into his ear.

“Your place or mine?” he pulled back to look at her, his eyes large in the dark, maybe also a bit from desire. He licked his lips again.

“Anywhere, I don’t care - your quarters are closer,” she said hurriedly. Elizabeth was being exceedingly selfish, this she knew - but she found she didn’t care.

It took a lot of willpower for them to wrestle their breathing under control and walk back inside and make their way all the way to John’s quarters without jumping each other again. They walked shoulder to shoulder through the halls. Occasionally their hands would brush against each other and it felt like a little electric shock every time. They got to John’s quarters in what was probably record time, and the door was barely closed behind them before they were on each other again.

Now that they were in private, Elizabeth let herself respond a bit more, moaning from John’s touches, which in turn just encouraged him more. They had their clothes half off before either of them were really aware of that fact, hands roaming, stroking; lips colliding; teeth biting. Things were progressing quickly but Elizabeth didn’t care. It had been a while since she’d been with anyone, but what really mattered was that it had been too long since she’d felt this _need_ \- and maybe it was just the heat of the moment, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt it this strongly before.

The two of them tumbled into the bed before long, a tangle of limbs. John rolled Elizabeth onto her back and - she yelped in pain. There was an object underneath her back, and she pulled it out - a book, small and hard - and dissolved into a fit of giggles. John looked apologetic but grabbed the book from her and tossed it across the room, patience gone. He moved in to kiss her, settling between her legs. Elizabeth groaned as she felt his hardness against her, only the layers of their underwear separating them. She wrapped her legs around him and ground herself against him, wanting more. John pulled away from her mouth. His eyes were closed and he stilled his movements, concentrating on maintaining some level of control over his body.

“Christ, Elizabeth,” he said. He opened his eyes again and looked down at her. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Possibly he could have said anything at that moment - such as _you’re so fucking sexy_ or _I forgot to finish my report for the last mission_ or even _what lovely weather we’re having tonight_ \- and it probably would have elicited the same response from Elizabeth, which was to grin cheekily and thrust up against him. The friction, while not quite what she was yearning for, was still pleasurable, and she probably would have just continued doing that until she came.

John growled in frustration. He sat back on his legs, bringing distance between them. He ran a finger under the edge of her underwear and pulled, snapping the elastic. “Take these off.”

She eyed him as he knelt between her legs - she thought that was a rather nice place for him to be - chest heaving, hair even more tousled than usual. She could see his erection pressing against his boxers, and a rather base feeling of _want_ surged through her. “You first,” Elizabeth said, and she didn’t even have to try to put extra sexiness in her voice because the lust coursing through her body handled that all on its own.

John grinned but complied, and Elizabeth followed suit quickly thereafter and pulled him back down over her. She was pretty much done with the foreplay section of this evening’s activities and was very ready to move on to the main event. She could feel him between her and she rubbed against him, but he chose that moment to seemingly lose interest in sex. His arms were against the bed on either side of her head, supporting his weight, and he was looking into her eyes. It seemed like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Instead he kissed her softly.

Elizabeth kissed him back. She thought she could feel what it was he was trying to communicate. She had her own things she wanted to say to him. But she thought there would be plenty of time for that - _after_. She nipped his lower lip with her teeth, trying to encourage him along. “John,” she whispered his name breathlessly.

That seemed to work. He reached down between them and found her wet, beyond wet. He slipped a finger inside, then another. Elizabeth sighed and thrust against his handing. It felt good, but it was still just a tease. She wanted more, she wanted _him._

“John,” she said impatiently.

He merely slid his fingers out and back in again, and rained kisses down on her face and neck. She had one hand in his hair, gripping tightly, and the other roaming over his back, enjoying the feel of his muscles flexing under skin.

“John, _please_ ,” she ground out from between clenched teeth. Oh, fuck - he’d made her beg. She felt him grin against her neck. Bastard.

But it had the desired effect. John removed his fingers and disappeared from the bed for a moment. He hopped back onto the bed - rather exuberantly, Elizabeth noted with amusement - and there was a crinkle of wrapper as John put on a condom. He lowered himself over her and reached down, positioning himself. He made eye contact before he started pushing in - but that didn’t last long. They both closed their eyes in pleasure as John sank into her. He paused as they both tried to catch their breath.

“You okay?” John asked.

Elizabeth opened her eyes and grinned at him. It had been a while but she was so turned on it hardly mattered. There was a slight burning from being stretched, but it was a good burn, and she just wanted more. She squeezed and thrust against him, using her legs as leverage. That earned her a pleasing noise from John and his eyes fluttered closed. She lifted her head and put her lips against his ear. “Fuck me, John.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he replied. And then, blissfully, he _moved._ Slowly at first, eking out a rhythm, then speeding up as Elizabeth pulled with her legs and ground up into him. Before long they were thrusting in earnest, Elizabeth riding up the bed slightly with each movement. The pillow her head was on got bunched up as she migrated up the mattress, and she threw it on the floor, out of the way.

The room filled with the noises of their lovemaking, the sound of skin against skin, grunting and moans. It would sound indecent to Elizabeth had she been listening in on this as a bystander, but being in the middle of it just turned her on even more. She knew she wasn’t going to last much longer, and she gripped tightly onto John’s arms, urging him to go faster. Before long she found herself tumbling over the edge, crying out as she came, nails digging into his skin and her head thrown back against the bed.

John kept thrusting through her orgasm, his movements becoming more erratic, and after a minute he followed suit with his own.

They laid there for a moment, trying to get their breathing under control. Elizabeth didn’t even have to try to stamp out any thoughts like _that may have been a mistake_ because they didn’t enter her mind - no thoughts did. Eventually John rolled off her, and Elizabeth snuggled up next to him, laying her head against his shoulder and draping her arm over his stomach, not even caring that their skin was covered in a slightly sticky sheen of sweat. He brought his hand up to lightly trail his fingers along her back, tracing imaginary designs.

“That was nice,” John said, still sounding slightly winded, but mostly just sated. “Unexpected. But nice.”

Elizabeth grinned. “I hope it was more than _nice._ ”

“I don’t really have a baseline for comparison. We may have to repeat the experiment. Otherwise, it’s just shoddy science.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with McKay,” Elizabeth laughed.

“Well, feel free to boot him to someone else’s team!”

“Sorry, you’re stuck with him. He’s just too useful.”

Elizabeth felt more than heard the rumble of John’s chuckle through his body. She felt entirely content in that moment, so much so that she wouldn’t be that surprised later to reflect on how quickly she fell asleep in John’s arms.

***

Elizabeth awoke to find John already awake, and staring at her.

No, not staring. More like _gazing._

“Morning,” she mumbled, face half buried into a pillow.

“Morning yourself, sleepyhead. I was beginning to think maybe you’d slipped into a coma.”

Elizabeth smiled and stretched, not disliking the appreciative glance John swept down her body at the movement. He licked his lips. “Any chance of... a repeat performance?”

Oh, how she wished. Elizabeth glanced at the clock - she was already running later than she liked. And they _were_ in the middle of a situation. Whatever this situation actually was. She’d berate herself later for letting herself get distracted by sex - by _John._ For now - they had things to do. “I should really get to the control room,” she said regretfully.

John nodded. He kissed her, a short kiss, but firm, and reluctantly left the bed for the shower. Elizabeth gathered her clothes and waited for her turn in the bathroom. She briefly considered joining him in order to save time - but figured that would just end up costing more time in the long run. She located her earpiece on the floor under a sock, and fit it to her ear. It was early, but it wouldn’t hurt to check in and make sure the city was quiet.

“Control room, this is Weir. How’s it going?”

“Dr. Weir, thank God, I’ve been trying to reach you through the radio and your room for the past forty- five minutes. I was about to send Ronon out to look for you.”

Elizabeth winced, feeling a small spike of guilt. “Sorry about that, I was -” she cut herself off, not able to come up with a good excuse off the cuff. “What’s the problem, Chuck?”

“It’s the time-traveler - Patrick, ma’am. Something happened. He attacked Teyla.”

Elizabeth was momentarily stunned. “ _What?_ ”

“She’s fine, but Patrick is in the brig. When I last checked in with Teyla, she was in the infirmary. That was about half an hour ago. You’ll need to get the full story from her, but they were sparring and I guess - Patrick just snapped. He’s not talking, so we don’t really know what happened.”

The words washed over her, their meaning only vaguely registering. A small part of her was crowing, saying _see, I told you something was off with him_ but mostly, she just felt disappointed. Hurt.

“Ma’am?”

Elizabeth shook her head, bringing herself back to the present time and place. “Sorry, Chuck. Thanks. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“What happened?” John was out of the shower, clothed, and staring at her with a worried expression.

“Patrick, he -” Elizabeth swallowed. “He attacked Teyla.”

“ _What?_ ” John exclaimed. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. We need to talk to Teyla.” Elizabeth held her bundle of clothes tightly to her chest, feeling absurdly naked. “I’ll be right back. _Wait_ for me, John.”

She waited until he nodded his agreement before disappearing into the bathroom to get dressed.

***

The walk to the infirmary wasn’t long from John’s quarters, but it felt longer thanks to the silence that hung between them. Elizabeth thought it somewhat funny that they were experiencing their first bout of drama as parents. But the thought turned bitter in her mind, as this was much more serious than a kid’s antics. Something was wrong.

Elizabeth was relieved to see that Teyla was fine - mostly. She had a small gash across her forehead, which Carson was just finishing stitching up when she and John had arrived. Teyla quickly recounted the events from that morning: Patrick had knocked on her door early, asking if they might have a sparring match. He said she had taught him most of what he knew about fighting, and he missed their exercises together. Things had been going fine, but then out of nowhere he went from sparring to fighting. Before Teyla had realized what was happening, he had slammed her head into the wall.

“Fortunately, Patrick’s guard heard the commotion and came into the room to investigate. If he had not, I believe things would have been worse. For both of us.” Teyla had a slight glint in her eye, not appreciative of the sneak attack. Or maybe she was feeling foolish for having let her guard down around him.

Elizabeth felt slightly the same.

“And he didn’t say anything to you?” John asked.

“No. I asked him what was wrong, why he would do that. He refused to say anything. I told the guard to bring him to the brig.”

“You made the right call,” Elizabeth said. She eyed the now-bandaged cut on Teyla’s forehead. “Sorry.”

“It is not your fault,” Teyla said. “I only hope you can discover what it is that caused him to attack me. Perhaps he is... ill.”

“Perhaps,” Elizabeth replied noncommittally.

There was nothing left to do but visit Patrick in the brig and try to get to the bottom of things. John led the way, and Elizabeth could feel the mounting anger radiating off him. She felt more confused than anything.

They found Ronon in the brig, prowling outside the bars of Patrick’s cell. He looked up at them when they entered. “Where have you two been?” he asked, gruffly.

Elizabeth and John shared a brief, embarrassed glance, but neither answered the question. Instead, Elizabeth asked one of her own. “Has he said anything?”

“Nothing,” Ronon huffed, and turned to stare at Patrick. “He’s lucky I wasn’t there. He’d be quiet for an entirely different reason if that was the case.” 

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, imagining just why he would be silent if Ronon had been the one to get to him. Crushed windpipe, maybe? Or probably just dead. She stepped close to the bars. Patrick was sitting on the bench, staring at the floor, ignoring them.

“Patrick?” she asked. No response. “ _Patrick,_ ” she repeated, louder this time.

That seemed to attract his attention. He stirred, looking up at her groggily, almost as if he had been asleep. He blinked a few times and his vision cleared slightly. “M-mom?”

Elizabeth blinked in surprise. “I’m here, Patrick. Can you tell me what happened?”

Patrick dragged a hand over his face. He seemed disoriented. “I - I don’t remember. I was... I was with Teyla, I think. I don’t -” he took a shuddery breath. “It’s kind of just a black spot.”

John stood next to Elizabeth and touched her elbow briefly, signaling he wanted to take over. Elizabeth nodded.

“You were sparring,” John said. “With Teyla, in the gym.”

Patrick stood up and paced. “I don’t remember that.”

“You came to her room this morning. You told her that she had taught you to fight when you were younger.”

Patrick froze mid-step. “Wait, yeah.” He rubbed a hand against his head. “I think I remember that.”

“Then you two went to the gym...?” John prompted, trying to help his memory kickstart itself.

Patrick worried his lower lip between his teeth, eyes moving back and forth as he chased his memories. Eventually he sighed and sagged his shoulders. “No, sorry, Dad, I don’t really remember. I remember meeting Teyla, but then.. that’s it.”

John shared a glance with Elizabeth. She turned away and touched her earpiece, calling Carson to the brig. She turned back to see Patrick looking at her, worried. His eyebrows were almost a mirror image of John’s, when he wore the same expression.

“We’re just going to run some tests. See if we can figure out what happened.” Elizabeth hoped she sounded reassuring.

“Did I hurt Teyla?” Patrick asked. “I don’t remember exactly what happened, but, I feel like - I hurt her, didn’t I?”

“She’ll be okay,” John said. “We just gotta figure out what’s up with you so that it doesn’t happen again.”

It was a tense wait for Carson to arrive. Elizabeth tried to shoo Ronon away, but he refused, insisting taking over guarding duties on their now-prisoner from there on out. Elizabeth was not in the mood to fight about it so she agreed.

When Carson arrived, he got straight to work. They let him into the cell and Ronon followed, hovering closely over Patrick, ignoring Carson’s pointed stares of irritation. He shone lights into Patrick’s eyes, tested his reflexes, and drew more than one vial of blood. He had just about finished when Patrick seemed to snap.

Elizabeth had been watching him the whole time and didn’t see it coming at all. One second, he was sitting there rubbing at where he’d been stuck with the needle, and the next he had his hands wrapped around Carson’s throat. Ronon was closest, and fastest besides, and was able to get Patrick off Carson after only a moment. Elizabeth helped him to grab his implements and get out of the cell, coughing as he went, while Ronon and John wrestled with Patrick on the ground. They were both kneeling on top of him, and he was grunting and twisting, though it was having no effect.

“What the _hell,_ Patrick!?” Patrick was trying to stand up, bucking at the men holding him down. John pinned one of Patrick’s arms under one of his knees and the other knee with his hands. There was no response to John’s question.

“Carson?” Elizabeth asked. “Are you okay?”

“Aye, I’m alright,” he said, though his voice sounded a bit scratchy. He touched his neck gingerly.

“Can you inject him with something?”

Carson nodded and rooted through his kit before coming away with a needle and vial. It didn’t take long for the drug to take effect, and Ronon and John left Patrick on the floor of the cell, passed out. John locked the door and double-checked it.

“Okay, there’s something definitely off about him,” John said.

“You think?” Ronon asked sarcastically.

“Carson, better go run those tests.” Elizabeth said.

“I wanted to get some brain scans...” Carson trailed off, looking at Patrick’s still form.

“Maybe later,” John said. “Just do the blood, first.”

Carson made to leave, but Elizabeth stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“I’ll call as _soon_ as I have something,” he said. Elizabeth smiled in thanks and let him go.

John and Elizabeth stood shoulder to shoulder, both of their thoughts wandering. Ronon leaned against the wall, watching them.

“He’s not your son,” Ronon said, drawing their attention.

“What?” Elizabeth asked, confused.

“I don’t really understand that alternate reality stuff, but he’s not _your_ kid. He’s some other Sheppard and Weir’s kid.”

Elizabeth considered that. _Maybe, but-_

“You’re not responsible for him,” Ronon said, cutting into her thoughts.

She knew he was right, but she felt responsible anyway.

***

Elizabeth and John sat at one of the tables in the mess hall, sipping at cups of coffee. Elizabeth was confused. About what had happened with Patrick, mostly. But also about where things stood between John and herself. The way John kept meeting her eyes and then quickly looking away told her he was at least thinking about the former topic himself. She knew he would be the one to broach the topic first. John was physically unable to let things lie.

“So, about last night,” he began. “I had a good time.”

Elizabeth smirked behind her coffee cup, but the weight of the current events quickly wiped it off her face. “I did too, John. But right now, I think... we should just focus on figuring out what’s going on. With Earth, with Patrick.”

John nodded and looked into his mug. “Yeah, I know. But we will talk about it at some point, right?”

Elizabeth reached over and laid her hand over his. “I promise. Later.”

They were interrupted from further conversation by Carson’s voice in their ears. “Doctor Weir, Colonel Sheppard - I have the results. You should come to the infirmary straight away.”

Elizabeth thought they made it there in record time. They probably looked every bit the pair of concerned parents that they felt, judging by the wary expression on Carson’s face.

“Carson?” Elizabeth asked expectantly.

“Patrick’s not your son,” Carson said gently.

“We went over this with Ronon already. Timelines, yadda yadda,” John replied.

“No, I mean, Elizabeth, you did not give birth to him, in this or any timeline. He’s not your child.”

“But - the DNA test?” Elizabeth was confused. That was starting to become the theme of the day.

“Biologically, yes, he is the offspring of John Sheppard and Elizabeth Weir. I’m sorry, I should have noticed this with my first round of genetic testing. But it was almost imperceptible before, though now -”

“Beckett,” John cut in, frustrated. “Start from the beginning.”

“Patrick wasn’t born. He was _grown._ ”

Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open. “You mean - like in a test tube?”

“Aye. Well, I very much doubt it was an actual test tube as this is real life and not a science fiction novel, but the concept is one and the same.” Carson motioned them towards a screen, where he brought up images of DNA strands and genetic coding. He pointed at the screen. “It’s subtle, but here and here - this junk DNA? Is not actually junk DNA. It’s being used.”

“Used?” Elizabeth’s voice was quiet with shock. John brushed his fingers along her hand, and she was glad for the contact.

“I can’t tell what for. But this is not a natural mutation or anything of the like. Someone’s been tinkering with his DNA. But that’s not the worst of it. Once I saw this, I had a suspicion. So I tested the TREC levels in his blood. And what I found...” Carson shook his head. “Patrick’s not even a year old yet.”

Elizabeth put a hand over her mouth. This was getting better and better.

Carson continued. “It’s some sort of accelerated aging. I haven’t seen anything quite like it before.”

“Why didn’t you notice what was wrong in his DNA before?” John asked.

Carson sighed and pointed at some apparently relevant portion of the DNA strand image on the screen, though Elizabeth wasn’t really sure what she was meant to be seeing. “This not-actually-junk DNA here, this is breaking down. Compared to the DNA from his initial blood test when he first arrived on Atlantis, you can see the differences. His genetic coding is coming apart, and fast. But it was subtle before, and I wasn’t looking for it. Now it sticks out like a sore thumb.”

“Why is it breaking down?” Elizabeth asked.

“I’m not sure. Best guess? Whoever grew Patrick didn’t fully understand what they were doing.”

“Is that why he’s attacking people? Is this making him go crazy?” John peered at the images on the screen, though Elizabeth got the sense he didn’t understand them much either.

“I don’t think so. DNA just doesn’t work that way. I think... I think that’s part of his design. But the breakdown of his genetic coding is causing the programming to manifest haphazardly.”

“So you’re saying we’ve got a psycho sleeper agent test tube baby on our hands,” John said sardonically.

Carson looked apologetic. “Seems that way, Colonel, yes.”

Elizabeth found the nearest chair and slumped into it. Could her emotions be taken on more of a rollercoaster ride? She wasn’t sure that the past few days had really done enough. First she was greeted with the news that Earth had been overrun - and that her son from the future was here to help save Atlantis. She had tried to cope with the idea of even having a son, and _who_ she had that son with - and she had done pretty well, she thought. She ended up in bed with John, and maybe on some level it was a horrifically bad idea, though it certainly hadn’t felt bad at the time. And now her son was not really her son, but grown in some lab somewhere... a thought occurred to her.

“Carson, you said biologically, he _is_ our child?”

“Yes. Someone obviously got a hold of DNA samples from the both of you in order to create him.”

“But he knows so much,” John said. “About Atlantis, about the people here... about me and Elizabeth.”

Carson shrugged. “That, I don’t know.”

“Genetic memory? That’s a thing, right?” John asked.

“Not in humans, it isn’t,” Carson replied.

Elizabeth stood up again. “So. We have a mole.”

***

“We need to go to Earth.”

Elizabeth, John and his team, Carson, and Caldwell were all sitting around the briefing room table, most of them looking perturbed. Elizabeth and John had been bringing everyone up to speed regarding Patrick, though news of his attack on Teyla had spread across the city rather quickly. After they had finished, Caldwell spoke up before anyone else could say anything, about his desire to return to Earth.

“For once, I agree with you.” John gave a short, self-deprecating half-smile.

“I do too,” Elizabeth nodded. “As it turns out... Patrick isn’t really who he said he was.”

She felt foolish for having been taken in. There had been doubts, but she overran them, because the idea seemed appealing. A child, with John? Obviously the idea was too close to something she secretly wanted since she hadn’t questioned Patrick’s presence nearly enough.

“But how’d they - whoever it was - get your DNA? How did he know so much?” Rodney asked.

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe Patrick will have some answers for us. If he ever remembers who he really is.”

“Maybe he’s known all along and we just have to get it out of him somehow,” Ronon offered.

Elizabeth shuddered slightly, remembering last time she’d decided to try _alternative techniques_. It was a bad decision then, and it was a bad decision now. “No. We’re not doing that. Besides, he didn’t seem to be putting on an act. He seemed genuinely confused by what was happening to him. I know my judgment hasn’t exactly been the best-”

“I agree with you, Elizabeth,” Teyla cut in. “The Patrick I was sparring with and the Patrick that attacked me were two entirely different individuals, that much was clear to me.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Regardless, I agree with you as well, Colonel Caldwell. We’re going to Earth. We need to find out why we can’t contact them. Patrick’s story can’t be trusted.”

“It’s worth the risk,” John chimed in.

The Daedalus prepped and headed out for Earth in record time. John tried to convince Elizabeth to stay behind, but she refused. She wanted to see this through, even if she was nervous about being out of touch with Atlantis for so long. She left Major Lorne in charge, with strict instructions to abandon the city should an Ori ship pop up, although Elizabeth was doubtful that would occur. John and his team came along, and they brought the time jumper as well, loaded into one of the Daedalus’ F-302 bays. That had excited Rodney, who clearly planned on spending the bulk of the three week trip to Earth holed up inside it, studying the ship’s tech.

The first week of the journey was taken up by a lot of meetings with Elizabeth, John’s team, and Caldwell. They made plan upon plan, for all contingencies they could think of. If Patrick’s story about the Ori _was_ true, what they would do about the people on Earth, how they could help. They all decided if the Ori were there, then they just wouldn’t go back to Atlantis. They could still prevent Patrick’s dreary future from happening.

If it all hadn’t _entirely_ been lies.

Eventually they ran out of ideas and options, though, and settled into a routine of normal ship operation duties. Caldwell spent most of his days on the bridge, and sometimes Elizabeth would go there, but she usually felt out of place and useless, so she ended up just wandering the halls. She’d previously only been on the Daedalus coming from Earth to go back home, to Atlantis, and those trips would fill her with an excited anticipation. But now, she just felt a heavy dread with every light year they grew closer to Earth.

She could feel the nervous energy coming from the others as well. And, she realized, also a bit of hope. Hope that their planet _hadn’t_ actually been decimated by a fearsome race of evil aliens. Elizabeth tried not to think about it too much. She didn’t want to suffer the loss of humanity all over again. Moreover, she didn’t want her people to suffer the loss again.

John had been uncharacteristically quiet around her. In fact, he hadn’t been around her much at all. She thought maybe he was just trying to give her space. They hadn’t talked on a personal level since the morning after they’d had sex, and right after that they’d found out Patrick wasn’t who they thought he was. Elizabeth’s mind jumped from reason to reason why John might be avoiding her now, but in the end, she knew there was only one way to find out for sure. And she did promise him a _talk_... might as well do it while they were both stuck on the Daedalus for another two weeks. Elizabeth was already tired of aimlessly roaming the grey halls, and she knew Rodney was tired of her checking up on him three times a day. Even if she and John just spent a few hours staring at each other and being silent, it would be a nice distraction.

It took some time to find John, once she decided on it. But eventually, after asking around, she found him sitting on the floor of an empty storage room, taking apart and cleaning his handgun. The door was open and she stood watching him for a moment. He didn’t notice her, as he was hunched over and working intensely with some small part, a spring or something. She let her eyes wander over his fingers as he rubbed oil into the spring, and it reminded her of other things those fingers had done. Much more pleasurable things.

Elizabeth felt her face getting a bit hot. She coughed, getting John’s attention.

“Hey,” he said. He waved a hand at the floor. “Pull up a seat.”

She knelt down in front of him, looking at the gun in pieces and laid out on a towel. It was a common sight around Atlantis, soldiers stripping and cleaning their guns. She knew they liked to do it when they were bored with a lot of downtime, but they also tended to do it when they were nervous about something. Elizabeth briefly wondered if most of them just unconsciously gravitated towards this activity, or if at some point in their basic training they were told _Hey, if you’ve ever got some nervous energy to burn off - clean your gun!_

“This can’t be that fascinating,” John said, grinning at her.

“It is, actually.” Elizabeth smiled back. His grin made her feel a bit better. She hadn’t realized how accustomed she’d grown to his emotional support, until she’d gone this past week without any of it.

“I can teach you if you want.”

“That’s alright. Let’s keep the mystery alive.” Elizabeth made herself a bit more comfortable on the floor, moving to a cross-legged position. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh yeah?” John said absent-mindedly. If Elizabeth thought the careless tone of voice was a little _too_ obvious, she wasn’t going to say anything about it.

“Well, I owe you a talk.”

John’s hands stilled, and then he put down his rag. He met her eyes, then looked away again. “Look, about that. We were, um, operating under false intel. Mistakes were made. You don’t owe me anything.”

Elizabeth blinked. _Oh._ “You think it was a mistake then?”

John looked pained. “The mistake was mine. Not - not _you,_ necessarily. I just mean... my mistake was believing in a story in which any future of mine held any sort of happiness in it.”

“John,” Elizabeth started, though she didn’t know what to say to that.

“So I just wanted to give you some space. To let you know that it’s okay to let that be a one time thing.” He was still avoiding her eyes. “Since there’s no guaranteed good outcome between us.”

“Is there ever between anyone?” Elizabeth asked, incredulous. _This_ was why he’d been avoiding her? So she could come to the inevitable conclusion that he was no good?

John looked up. “You’ve got a lot to deal with right now -”

“I’ve _always_ got a lot to deal with. I doubt that will ever change.” Elizabeth shrugged. “Except maybe when I’m dead.”

John’s eyes darkened at that. “Elizabeth.”

She sighed. “If I’m going to make a mistake, then fine. I’ll make one. I’ve made plenty in my life before, so what’s one more? But I’d rather it _be mine_ to make.”

John nodded. “I get that.”

“Good!” Elizabeth smiled. “Now, are you going to kiss me?”

He didn’t wait for her to ask again. John brought a hand up to her face, thumb against her cheek and fingers in her hair, and pulled her lips against his in a crushing kiss. They were both leaning over the disassembled gun, forgotten between them. It didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, their lips parting and tongues exploring. After a moment Elizabeth pulled away, if only to prevent things from getting out of hand in this storage room with a wide open door that anyone could walk past at any moment. John let her sit back, though he looked hungry for more. It made a warm feeling settle in Elizabeth’s stomach.

“You can be happy, John,” she said.

John reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. “We both can.”

“So.” Elizabeth grinned wickedly. “Your place or mine?”

***

The remaining two weeks of the trip passed by relatively quickly after that. Elizabeth and John found it easy to slip into a pattern. They did their requisite daily duties, and since there was not much to be done on the Daedalus, those were usually over pretty quickly. Then they’d spend much of the day together. Sometimes that consisted of sitting around playing chess, jointly irritating Rodney, sitting together while they each read or worked on something, or even just spending an inordinate amount of time in bed together.

They didn’t really try to keep what they were doing a secret. Elizabeth was pretty sure it would have been impossible to keep a secret on that ship; it was hard enough keeping one on Atlantis, and that was a _city._ But nobody said anything to them, and aside from one or two knowing looks, they were generally left alone. Caldwell certainly knew. Elizabeth was well aware that a good leader had to know everything going on with the people they were responsible for. But he apparently thought it wasn’t his job to care, because apart from a couple of raised eyebrows in their direction, he’d stayed silent on the matter.

Rodney was probably the only one who didn’t know, since he all but slept inside that time jumper. Actually, no - he did sleep there sometimes. Elizabeth had found him curled up on a blanket in the corner one morning, drool pooling under his mouth.

They were enjoying the relative peace. Elizabeth could feel a dread in her stomach whenever she thought about what might await them at Earth, but she purposely stamped it out each time. There was no point worrying about what would happen. They’d talked over every contingency. They had their plans, and that was that. So Elizabeth let herself enjoy this downtime.

It was of course typical, then, that it should be broken early.

Two days before their arrival at Earth, Caldwell was calling everyone to the bridge. They’d dropped out of hyperspace. The bridge was a flurry of activity when Elizabeth and John arrived. Teyla and Ronon were already there, looking concerned.

“What’s going on?” Elizabeth asked, standing to the side to let the bridge technicians have space to walk back and forth. “Ori?”

“Nope,” Caldwell said. “Wraith.”

John turned towards the forward window, squinting into the blackness of space.

“We’re too far to see it, but it’s on the sensors,” Caldwell said. “One hive ship orbiting the fourth planet in a small system.”

Elizabeth swallowed. “They’ve done a culling.”

“Probably, yeah.”

“What are we gonna do about it?” Ronon cut into the conversation. His tone was one of impatience. Elizabeth guessed he’d already tried to have this conversation with Caldwell. Caldwell’s narrowed gaze at Ronon confirmed this.

“We’re not going to do anything until we figure out why it’s here. _How_ it’s here.”

“The Wraith know where Earth is,” John said. “We’re only two days out. This is just a stop along the way for them.”

Caldwell’s grim nod indicated he had come to the same conclusion. “We’ll have some time, and a head start. We should resume our course for Earth. With a bit of warning, we can mount a defense.”

“Agreed,” Elizabeth said. John nodded next to her.

Caldwell ordered the Daedalus back into hyperspace, and Elizabeth, John and his team dispersed from the bridge, giving the crew their space back to do the work they needed to do.

Elizabeth and John made their way to the F-302 bay, where they parted ways; John went to do a check of the planes - they’d probably be needing them. Elizabeth found Rodney sitting on the floor of the time jumper, snapping a panel back into place on the center console.

“You didn’t come to the bridge,” she said.

Rodney looked up and smiled widely. “That’s because I figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

“How this thing works. I don’t just mean how to _fly_ it. If someone like General O’Neill can fly one of these things anyone can. But I know how it _works_.”

“How it travels through time?”

Rodney nodded and shoved a tablet into her hands. Elizabeth looked at it, but it was way beyond her. She didn’t think math was supposed to have that many letters in it. “I understand how it works. How it bends time. Like hyperspace, but another dimension.”

“You lost me,” Elizabeth said, bemused.

Rodney grabbed the tablet back. “It doesn’t matter. The point? Is that if this thing breaks, I can fix it. Hell, I can _build more_.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good idea. These things can be dangerous.”

“Yeah I know. Timelines, blah blah blah. But this is huge. This is the most important discovery since we figured out gate travel. Actually - hell, this might be even bigger than gate travel. _Time travel,_ Elizabeth!”

She crossed her arms. “Yes. I’m aware. Time travel.”

Rodney looked disgusted at her apparent unenthusiasm. “I need to tell someone who actually will get the point.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “That can wait. For now? We have a problem. We dropped out of space because we detected a Wraith ship.”

“What, here? But we’re almost to Earth.”

“Exactly. Somehow, they found where we are.”

“So the Ori...” Rodney trailed off.

“No sign of them yet.”

Rodney set his tablet down on one of the jumper’s benches. “What’s the plan?”

“We’re still heading to Earth. We think that’s where the Wraith are headed anyway. We’ll make a stand there. It’s just one hive ship. I want you to make sure this time jumper is ready to go.”

“You think we’ll need it?” Rodney sounded worried, though Elizabeth was pretty sure it’s just because he didn’t want his new toy to get damaged already.

“I just want every possible resource available. We still don’t know what’s waiting for us.”

The last two days to go before reaching Earth were the longest days of their trip. Elizabeth hardly slept either night - and neither did John. They spent both nights together, mostly listening to each other’s breathing in the dark as they laid in bed. It was as much rest that Elizabeth could hope for.

They reached Earth a couple hours after getting up on the third day. Everyone crowded into the bridge, holding their collective breath as they dropped out of hyperspace. Earth blossomed in front of them, a blue jewel in a sea of dark silk. Most everyone on the bridge stared appreciatively. Ronon and Teyla exchanged glances; this wasn’t their planet, though they could understand the feelings of the Earthlings.

Elizabeth turned to Caldwell. “Colonel?”

He turned to one of his officers. “Captain?”

The man he spoke to was tapping away at his control panel. “Nothing, sir. No sign of a ship, either Ori or Wraith.”

Elizabeth let out a breath. She met John’s eyes; he was smiling. Rodney made a pleased _huh_ sound.

“Finally, something going right,” Caldwell muttered. “Hail the SGC.”

“Yes, sir.”

They waited a moment, but there seemed to be no response. The communications officer looked puzzled, and repeated his hails. He hit a few buttons on his control panel. Eventually he turned to face Caldwell. “No response, sir. But I’m not picking up anything on the usual channels.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Elizabeth figured they were all thinking the same thing as she was: maybe the Ori _had_ been here, but had already left.

“We need to go down there,” John said.

Caldwell fixed him with a glare but didn’t reply. “Scan the planet.”

“Everything looks to be in order, sir. Population of almost seven billion. No signs of an attack.”

John was impatiently clenching his fists at his side. Elizabeth reached out to touch his arm in an attempt to calm him down and let him know she’d take care of it. He met her eyes and visibly relaxed.

“I think John’s right.” Elizabeth addressed Caldwell. “We need to send a team to the SGC. The only way we’ll figure this out is with eyes on the ground.”

He looked at her, then back at Earth, through the window. She could see his jaw clenching as he considered his options. “Alright. But not Sheppard. He stays on the Daedalus.”

John started. “Colonel -!”

“The Wraith are going to be showing up at any minute,” Caldwell cut him off. He looked at Elizabeth. “We don’t know what’s going on down there, and we might not get the support we were counting on. I need every available pilot on board who can fly one of those 302s.”

Elizabeth considered this. She knew Caldwell was right. Sheppard was the best pilot on the ship. He was far more valuable staying there. Eventually, she nodded. “Agreed.”

“Elizabeth,” John started, irritated.

“Think about it, John. If the Wraith come, we’ll all stand a better chance with you up here, than down on the planet.”

“Fine,” he agreed. “Take Ronon and Teyla, and one of the Daedalus’ marines.”

The corner of Elizabeth’s mouth quirked. “Fine. Caldwell?”

“You can have Hutchison.” Caldwell nodded at one of his bridge crew, who made the call to Hutchison.

“Rodney, you should stay here too,” Elizabeth said, turning towards the man in question. “You know the time jumper best. You might be needed.” He nodded.

Ronon and Teyla left the bridge to get prepared to take the trip down to the planet. Elizabeth moved to follow, but John stopped her. “Be careful.”

“I will.” Elizabeth smiled reassuringly, then kissed him quickly on the lips. Everyone in the room pointedly ignored this, except Rodney, whose mouth had dropped open. Elizabeth could hear him exclaiming _what the-?_ as she left the bridge.

***

Elizabeth, Ronon, Teyla, and Hutchison took only ten minutes to get ready, decking themselves out in tactical vests and arming themselves with P90s. They met back on the bridge, ready to head down to the planet. Caldwell wished them luck, and Elizabeth locked eyes with John before white light engulfed her vision.

After a slightly disorienting moment, Elizabeth became aware of her surroundings again. They were in the middle of the gate room in the SGC. Hutchison was already on the move, sweeping the room. Ronon followed suit, though it was a relatively small room and very bare. All of the blast doors were down, and there was no place to hide.

Elizabeth looked at the gate. She was startled to see that it was covered in a huge tarp. And that tarp seemed to have a thick layer of dust on it. If the gate was here, why hadn’t they been able to open a connection? She walked up the ramp and pulled at the tarp until it slipped and fell off the gate. She gasped. Underneath, the iris was closed. And not only closed...

She stepped closer and ran her fingers around the edge of the gate. There was the tell-tale bubbled metal that came from welding. They had closed the gate. Permanently.

Teyla said her name, calling her attention away from the peculiarity of the gate.

“What is it?”

Teyla pointed at a small, fold-out table with a few chairs around it. There was a stack of cards on it, and a bowl filled with pistachios, with a few opened shells sitting next to it. So, people had been here recently. But why was this in the gate room? And why was the iris permanently shut? Something was very wrong.

“We need to get up to the control room.” Elizabeth said to her team.

Hutchison nodded - he was the only one there who even knew what the control room was, let alone how to get there. The others followed him as he activated one of the blast doors and led the way. The SGC was entirely empty. Well, Elizabeth knew there had to be people somewhere. But it should have been bustling. When they got to the control room, it too was empty.

More worrying than its lack of people, was its lack of equipment. There were a couple very old CRT monitors at the main panel, and one computer stashed in a corner. Otherwise, the room was bare. The monitors and computer all had covers thrown over them.

“What the hell?” Hutchison said. He too had caught on to the disparity.

“What is it?” Ronon asked, raising his gun a little.

“This isn’t what the SGC normally looks like,” Elizabeth explained. “There’s missing equipment. And there’s nobody here. There should be half a dozen people in this room alone.”

Hutchison walked to the phone and pointed. “We could try calling someone.”

Elizabeth shrugged. “As good an idea as any.”

Hutchison picked up the phone. “Give me the general,” he said. He was clearly on hold for a moment, then perked up once he got a voice on the other end. “General - General _Hammond?”_ he asked, confused.

Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open. What was Hammond doing there?

“This is Captain Hutchison, sir,” he was speaking into the phone still. “I’m in the control room. We’ve come from Atlantis on the Daedalus. We need -”

He was clearly cut off by the general. Elizabeth could hear the low murmur of the voice on the phone, but she couldn’t make out what was being said.

“I said Atlantis, sir. We just got here from the Pegasus Galaxy.”

Hutchison was quiet again. He opened his mouth a few times as if to say something but he couldn’t get a word in.

Elizabeth stepped up and took the phone from him. She heard General Hammond’s voice, saying something about penalties for breaking into a classified government installation. “General Hammond,” she said over him.

“Who’s this?” came the surprised response.

“It’s Doctor Weir, sir. Elizabeth Weir? We met briefly, once. I took over the SGC after you left.”

“Left? Ma’am, I never left. I’ve been here the better part of a decade. And I’ve certainly never heard of you.”

“What? But that’s -”

Hammond cut her off as deftly as he had cut off Hutchison. “I don’t know how you got into this facility, but I will find out.”

“Weir!” Ronon shouted, and Elizabeth dropped the phone to raise her gun. The control room was swarmed by a team of Air Force personnel, all with guns aimed at their heads.

“Put down the weapons!” one of them shouted.

They were outnumbered and at a disadvantage. Elizabeth needed to talk to the general, and this was probably the easiest way anyhow. Elizabeth held up one of her hands and slowly lowered her gun to the floor. The others followed her lead, and soon they found themselves being pulled through the halls of the SGC, and separated as they were herded into different holding areas.

***

“For the _hundredth time,_ my name is Doctor Elizabeth Weir. I lead an expedition of people in the city of Atlantis, in the Pegasus Galaxy. We got here on the Daedalus, our ship in orbit, which was built here on Earth.” Elizabeth’s hands were gripped around the bars of her cell, her knuckles showing white. “I don’t know how many times I can tell you the same thing.”

“You’ll just have to repeat it until you make sense!” Hammond shouted.

Someone walked into the room and handed Hammond a folder. He opened it and scanned the contents.

“Doctor Weir, you are a diplomat. According to this, you’re currently in Iran, engaged in nuclear weapons talks. How’d you end up in Cheyenne?”

Elizabeth stared at him, her voice rising in annoyance. “Iran? What? I’ve been in another galaxy the past two years!”

“Considering the US Air Force has never commissioned a ship named the Daedalus, and certainly has never achieved interstellar travel, I highly doubt that.”

Elizabeth decided to try another tack. “Look, maybe there’s someone else we can talk to. Where is General O’Neill?”

“I don’t know any General O’Neill,” Hammond said impatiently.

“General Jack O’Neill?”

Hammond just stared at her.

“Okay. Doctor Daniel Jackson - where is he? He’s the one that discovered how the Stargate works.”

Hammond bristled at the mention of his name. Elizabeth was glad he at least _knew_ who he was.

“Doctor Jackson has been dead for years,” Hammond said. He sounded regretful. “You’re not wrong about that. He was our only chance of figuring that thing out.”

“ _What?”_ Elizabeth exclaimed. Daniel Jackson - dead for years? “When? How?”

“He was murdered outside of his apartment late on the night of May 17th, 1991. Shot to death. The assailant was never caught. Catherine Langford had hoped to get help from the man who wrote his thesis paper on aliens in ancient Egypt. Imagine her disappointment when she discovered he’d died just three years earlier.”

“That’s - that’s impossible.”

“What’s impossible, doctor, is the nonsense _you_ are spouting. Tell me again, how did you get in here?”

“We beamed in! From our ship! Using Asgard beaming technology!” Elizabeth shouted. She was getting extremely frustrated at the repeated questions.

Hammond raised his eyebrows at her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But none of this makes sense. It’s like the framework is the same, but every detail is different. It’s like...”

Elizabeth trailed off as she came to a realization. It was like _time had been rewritten._

“Yes?” Hammond prompted.

“The timeline’s been changed.”

Hammond laughed. “I’m sorry?”

“No, I am,” Elizabeth said. “Because that means you’re going to be of absolutely no help.”

“Help with what?”

“With the Wraith hive ship that is barrelling towards Earth at this very moment.”

That got Hammond’s attention. “Wraith? What are these Wraith?”

“Aliens from the Pegasus galaxy. They feed on humans. Literally. They’ve been searching for Earth for a while. Somehow, they found it. Their arrival here, and the alteration of the time line... this is too much of a coincidence.” Elizabeth started pacing in her cell. “They’re behind all of this. Somehow... it’s them. They sent Patrick.”

Hammond was looking at her as if she’d gone crazy. She figured she probably sounded a bit crazy.

More than a bit.

“Go upstairs to NORAD,” Elizabeth said. “Tell them to look for a ship in geosynchronous orbit above Cheyenne. That’ll be the Daedalus.”

Hammond looked skeptical, but also unwilling to risk the possibility that there might actually be a ship orbiting the planet. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and left the room.

Elizabeth sighed and slumped onto a bench.

After about ten minutes, Hammond returned. “It seems like the other three have been telling the same story as you.”

“That’s because it’s not a story; it’s the truth.”

“Whatever it is, it’s consistent, I’ll give you that,” Hammond said. He took off his hat and ran a hand over his head. “NORAD found your ships.”

Elizabeth jumped to her feet. “Ships? We only have one ship, general. The other one must be the Wraith ship!”

“Other one? Try other _two_. There’s three ships up there. And if these Wraith as bad as you say they are, we’ll have to hope that your people can take care of them.”

“Two hive ships? Please, return my radio, I need to contact the Daedalus,” Elizabeth asked.

“Out of the question,” Hammond said.

“ _Please_ ,” Elizabeth all but begged. “If the Wraith win this fight, then they’re going to lead dozens of other Wraith ships straight to Earth. And then they’re going to feed on humanity. They’ll decimate the population and drive the rest back into the dark ages.”

Hammond considered this. “Alright. Hold on.”

He was only gone a moment. Her things must have been right outside the brig. Hammond came back with the radio in hand. He deliberated for a moment before handing it over. “I hope I’m not making a mistake.”

“You don’t make mistakes, General,” Elizabeth grinned. She hit the talk button and called the Daedalus.

There was a moment of maddening silence before Caldwell’s voice rang out. “Doctor, we’re a little busy right now!” There was the sound of alerts in the background. Clearly the battle had already begun.

“We need to use the time jumper,” Elizabeth said. “The Wraith altered Earth’s past.”

“What?”

“The gate down here doesn’t even work, and Daniel Jackson is dead. We have to go back into the past and fix it!”

There was no response. “Caldwell, please! The only way you’re going to be able to win this is by letting us go back in time and fix it!”

Another moment of silence, and then Caldwell’s voice came through again. “You better be right about this. Prepare to beam up!”

“Beam up?” Hammond said, confused.

Suddenly, a white light filled the room. The last thing Elizabeth heard was Hammond’s shout of _wait!_ before finding herself - along with the others she’d gone to Earth with - on the bridge of the Daedalus.

***

There was an explosion, and the Daedalus shook violently.

“Reroute the power back to the shields!” Caldwell shouted. Elizabeth stumbled towards him, coughing through the smoke filling the bridge. “We took a huge hit just to beam you back up.”

“We need to use the time jumper. Where’s Sheppard?”

Caldwell pointed out the window.

“Call him back.”

“Are you insane?” Caldwell asked.

“Damnit, Colonel, I need him to pilot that jumper! If we do this right, you won’t have to wait long.”

The Daedalus shuddered as a series of hits drained its shielding. Elizabeth almost fell over, but Caldwell grabbed her arm.

“Colonel!” Elizabeth shouted. “We need to go!”

“Then what are you waiting for? Go!” He turned to his communications officer. “Call back Sheppard!”

Elizabeth nodded her thanks, and ran off for the time jumper. Ronon and Teyla followed her. They found Rodney there, looking queasy, pacing back and forth outside the time jumper. When he saw them approaching, the relief on his face was palpable.

“Oh, thank God,” he said. “Please tell me that the Earth is fine and they’re going to save our asses any minute.”

“Earth’s history has been drastically altered and we’re on our own.” Elizabeth didn’t bother sugar-coating it.

“We’re doomed,” Rodney said.

“Rodney, is the ship ready to go?”

“Just like you asked.”

“Good. We’re just waiting on Sheppard. Everyone get situated in the jumper.”

Rodney, Ronon, and Teyla filed in. Elizabeth stood by the door, waiting for John. She tapped her foot impatiently, though she didn’t end up having to wait long. She heard the sounds of a docking ship - punctuated by far-off explosions - and a moment later, John emerged.

“What the hell was so important?” John asked, tossing away his flight helmet.

“Somehow, the Wraith have altered history. Daniel Jackson is dead, the Stargate program never happened.”

“What?”

“We have to go back in time and prevent Doctor Jackson’s murder. That should right the timeline again.”

John looked skeptical, but the Daedalus was hit again, and the power flickered in their section of the ship. “Well that’s better than standing around here. Let’s go.”

They boarded the jumper and John slid into the pilot’s seat. Elizabeth sat in the co-pilot’s seat, since Rodney was busy hovering over the time jumper’s console. He had a tablet in his hand that had wires connecting it to the console.

“We’re ready back here!” Rodney shouted.

Elizabeth nodded at him. She turned to John. “Okay. We need to go back in time, to the day Jackson was killed. May 17th, 1991.”

John grimaced. “That was a bad time for music.”

Elizabeth ignored him. “We need to get there early in the day. I don’t know where he lived so we’ll have to find him. But I know he went to the University of Chicago back then.”

“May 17th, 1991. Morning. Got it.”

John powered up the jumper, and they navigated their way out of the Daedalus. They engaged the cloak and flew away from the battle. From afar, they could see how much damage the two Wraith ships were inflicting.

“Okay, how do I make the time jumpy part work?” John asked.

“Rodney?” Elizabeth asked.

“Just think really hard.” Rodney said without looking up from his tablet, fingers poised above it.

“ _Think really hard_ ,” John muttered. But he closed his eyes and did what Rodney said.

It didn’t take long. There was a nearly imperceptible shudder. But Elizabeth could tell _something_ happened because Rodney shouted in triumph. He was watching numbers scroll past on his tablet.

John opened one eye. “Are we there yet?”

Elizabeth looked out the window. There were no ships, just Earth. “Only one way to find out.”

John navigated his way down to the planet, making his way to Chicago, Illinois. Elizabeth helped him get to the University - she’d been there once for a seminar so she remembered how to get there - and they set down the ship on the top of the library, which had a large flat roof and was fairly central.

John and Elizabeth disembarked, instructing Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon to stay with the ship. Fortunately the roof door was easy to bust open, and they made their way through the library. A glance at a clock told Elizabeth it was about ten in the morning. She wasn’t sure exactly what time Daniel was supposed to die, but she knew it was at night sometime.

They made their way to a phone near the library entrance. Thankfully, there was a campus directory next to it. Elizabeth quickly scanned through it, looking for Jackson. “Haskell Hall, room 115,” she said. Outside of the library was a campus map, and they easily located Haskell, not very far from the library.

They barely spoke as they made their way there. Elizabeth felt the press of time weighing in on them. If they couldn’t prevent Daniel’s death, she didn’t know if they’d have another chance. Timeline stuff was wonky - there was probably something about not being able to cross your own paths in the past. She’d have to ask Rodney.

They located his office, but it was locked and dark. Their impassioned knocking aroused the interest of the person in the office next to his, however. A young woman with a head full of blonde curls poked her head out of her door.

“Doctor Jackson is gone for the day. Can I be of help?” she asked, a British accent clipping her words.

“We need to speak with him,” Elizabeth said. “Do you know where he lives?”

The woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously. She stepped out of her office and looked the two of them over. Elizabeth glanced at John, realizing he was still wearing his flight suit, and probably was just a bit odd looking. The woman shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give out that sort of personal information. Are you... students?”

“No, we’re friends of his,” John said. “We just got in from out of town.”

“And you don’t know where he lives?”

“He wasn’t expecting us,” John said somewhat saucily, and Elizabeth elbowed him.

“Wait,” Elizabeth said. She remembered something about Daniel’s file. “Are you Doctor Sarah Gardner?”

The woman raised her eyebrows. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Hi,” Elizabeth said. “My name is Elizabeth, by the way. Daniel’s told me about you.”

Sarah smiled. “He did?”

Elizabeth smiled conspiratorially. “Oh, yes. He’s quite fond of you.”

The other woman blushed upon hearing this. “Well, I’m fond of him too. We’re - friends.”

Elizabeth nodded knowingly.

“Well, okay,” Sarah said. Her worries were alleviated by the seemingly intimate knowledge Elizabeth had. “I’m sure he’d like to see you, then. Hold on, let me go write his address down for you.”

Sarah was only gone briefly, and when she came back she handed Elizabeth a little card with Daniel’s address. “Tell him I said hi.”

***

Elizabeth, John, and Ronon sat on a bench together, across from the door of Daniel’s apartment. It looked out onto the street, and from the bench they had a perfect view. The three of them had been sitting there for an hour now. Elizabeth shifted and stretched, feeling cramped between the two men on the tiny bench. She almost wished she was sitting back in the jumper with Rodney and Teyla, but she didn’t want to miss anything. So she stayed on the bench.

“It’s still a while before anything happens, right?” John asked.

Elizabeth looked at the horizon. The sun was getting low, but it was still another hour before sunset.

“Yeah. Hammond said he was killed late at night. It could be hours still.”

“Can’t we just go warn the guy to go somewhere else for a while?” Ronon asked.

“If we did, then whoever kills him might just wait another day to do it. We can’t risk Daniel being killed somewhere else down the line, or else this was all for nothing.” Elizabeth said.

Ronon shrugged and rolled his head around on his shoulders. Elizabeth rubbed at her own neck. It had been a couple days since she last got a restful night’s sleep, and she was starting to feel it. At least before adrenaline had kept her going. Now they were in the middle of some downtime, waiting hours for something to happen. Sitting on a bench, the sound of birds in the sky, and a probably unseasonably warm breeze for a mid-spring day in Chicago were all working to lull her to sleep.

John looked over at her. “Rest your head on my shoulder.”

“What?” Elizabeth asked.

“It’s fine. I’ll wake you up if anything happens.”

Elizabeth didn’t want to miss anything. But her eyes were also burning and her neck was very stiff. And as soon as he had mentioned it, John’s shoulder sounded like the most perfect place in the world she could want to rest her head. Elizabeth obliged, shutting her eyes and laying her head against his shoulder. She slouched down in the bench a little.

She listened to the birds chirping and felt the heat of John’s shoulder against her cheek and fell asleep almost immediately.

When John woke her up, it was dark. Elizabeth jerked up on the bench. Ronon was no longer sitting on the bench, but crouching down next to it, his eyes scanning back and forth.

“What time is it?” she whispered.

“I don’t know,” John replied. “But it’s been dark for a few hours. I figured it’s not going to be long now. Sorry to wake you up.”

“No, no. In fact, you should have woken me up sooner.” Elizabeth rubbed at her eyes, trying to get alert.

“You looked so peaceful,” John said by way of explanation. He stood up slowly, his joints cracking as he moved for the first time in hours. Elizabeth felt slightly guilty, since she’d been the reason for his immobility. But he didn’t seem bothered; he just stretched and then crouched down next to Ronon.

Elizabeth felt silly being the only one not down on the ground, so she knelt on the other side of John. They stayed there for a while, quiet, observing everything on the street. They would become tense and alert any time someone walked or drove by, but everyone always kept going.

It was probably about an hour of kneeling on the cold ground before the person they had been waiting for showed up. A dark figure sidled up the street, slowly, glancing around him as he went. His demeanor was one of someone about to do something untoward.

“That’s him,” Ronon whispered.

Then the man passed under a streetlight, and Elizabeth gasped. It was Patrick.

Beside her, John had his gun ready to go in his hand. Ronon pulled out his own as well. “Stay here,” he said to Elizabeth.

She watched as the two of them moved in unison across the street. Patrick’s back was turned as he intended to knock on Daniel’s door, but John and Ronon tackled him before he got there. They rolled around on the ground, fighting. Somehow, Patrick got a hold of John’s gun and fired it, hitting Ronon. Elizabeth jumped to her feet, but held herself back. Ronon was injured, but he was alive, clutching at his leg.

John must have knocked the gun out of Patrick’s hand. Elizabeth saw it skitter across the road. Deciding it was worth the risk, she ran towards it and grabbed it off the ground. John and Patrick had their hands around each other’s necks, and Patrick was on top of John, leaning his whole weight down onto him.

Elizabeth pressed the gun against Patrick’s head. “Let him go,” she said icily.

Patrick stopped moving. After a second, he let go of John. John coughed, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t wait for that to happen before shoving Patrick off. He stood up and took the gun from Elizabeth and aimed it between Patrick’s eyes.

“Patrick - why?” Elizabeth asked.

He looked at her without recognition. “Who’s Patrick?”

And then - he was on the ground, convulsing.

“Shit!” John exclaimed, lowering his gun.

“What is it?” Elizabeth asked. She wanted to kneel by his side, to help him. She had to remind herself that this wasn’t really her son. He was a tool of the Wraith. It didn’t matter anyway. He stilled before long, his eyes vacant as they stared, unseeing, up into the night sky.

“Some kind of poison, I’m guessing. Suicide pill.”

They heard a siren in the distance.

“We have to go,” John said. He leaned down and Ronon slung an arm around his shoulders. Elizabeth stood on his other side, and his other arm came down around her. As they were helping Ronon limp away, a door clicked open behind them, and a voice came out into the darkness.

“Hello?” a man asked. “Is someone in trouble out here?”

Daniel. Elizabeth recognized his voice instantly.

“Take him back to the jumper,” Elizabeth said, and extricated herself out from Ronon’s arm.

“Elizabeth!” John hissed, but she was already heading back towards Daniel, where he stood illuminated in his doorway.

Elizabeth walked closer to Daniel, just standing inside the pool of light issuing from his door. He looked so young - Elizabeth couldn’t help but grin. _His hair._ She couldn’t wait to get back to the present – future – and tease him about it.

“Are you okay, miss?” he asked, pushing his glasses up his face. “Did I hear a gunshot?”

“I think it was just a car backfiring,” she said dismissively, hoping he couldn’t actually see Patrick’s body lying in the dark street from where he was standing. “Hey, I just wanted to tell you, I think you’re exactly right.”

“I’m sorry?” he asked. The sirens of the police were getting louder, and closer. She had to make this fast.

“Your theories, about the aliens in Egypt. Pyramids as landing pads for ships? I think you’re right, Doctor Jackson.”

“Oh,” he seemed surprised, but flattered. “Well, thank you. Um... are you one of my students?”

“No, just an admirer,” Elizabeth said. “You better get back inside. This is kind of a dangerous neighborhood.”

She turned and ran back across the street just before the police arrived.

***

“So. Timeline fixed?” John asked expectantly, staring at Rodney.

Rodney looked up. “How should I know? We have to go back to the future and see if everything’s back the way it should be.”

John grinned. “ _Back_ to the _future_.”

Rodney made a face and turned back to his tablet. He was still analyzing the data from the time jump.

Elizabeth turned to Ronon. Teyla was patching up his wound. He looked drained. “You alright, Ronon?”

“I’ve had worse.”

Teyla shook her head at that. “He needs medical attention, but I have stopped the bleeding for now.”

“Thanks, Teyla,” Elizabeth said.

“Hey, I just had a thought,” John said. He was settling into the pilot’s seat, but he hadn’t fired up the jumper yet.

“What’s that?” Elizabeth asked.

“How did Patrick get here?”

Everyone exchanged glances.

“Another time jumper...” Rodney said in wonderment.

“It’s probably cloaked,” John said.

“It doesn’t matter, this jumper should be able to pick up its energy signature.”

“We have no one to fly it,” Elizabeth said.

“What are you talking about? I have the gene, I could fly it,” Rodney said indignantly.

“You?” Ronon interjected. “Fly a jumper?”

“What?” Rodney asked, looking insulted. “It can’t be that hard.”

John exchanged a glance with Ronon.

“Leave it, Rodney.”

“But what if someone finds it?” Rodney whined.

“I’m sure he hid it very well,” John replied. “But even if so, if anyone ever finds it, the government will just take it and stick it in Area 51. Nobody on Earth is going to know how to use it.”

Rodney looked unhappy at not getting a second time jumper, but he said nothing further.

Elizabeth sat in the co-pilot seat, buckling herself in. John was powering up the ship. He lifted off and into space, wanting to be off the planet before making the time jump. Elizabeth leaned back and enjoyed the view as they left the planet; the sky turned fiery red as they left the atmosphere, then melted to clear black with pinpricks of light.

They navigated to a patch of space far enough away from the action that awaited them back in the future, then jumped ahead. John swung the jumper around, searching for the Daedalus. He found it amid quite a large field of wreckage. Hanging in space not far from the Daedalus was the Odyssey.

They’d done. They fixed the timeline.

John looked over at Elizabeth and smiled. She unbuckled her seat and leaned over to kiss him, her hand gripping in his hair. John was pulling back at her just as hard, as they both poured the anxiety of the past few days into their kiss.

They didn’t even hear as Rodney shouted _stop doing that!_ from the back of the jumper.

***

The debriefing at SGC was nothing short of a pain in the ass. The story was a long and complicated one, and took quite a while to explain to everyone’s satisfaction. General Landry in particular demanded quite a few reiterations of the story. Eventually, though, they’d answered his questions satisfactorily.

Well, some of them.

They still didn’t know if it _was_ the Wraith who had made Patrick - though that seemed fairly obvious. The Ori story was a complete ruse. Whatever this was, it was a plot of the Wraith. But why did they make Patrick? What was the goal? Why kill Daniel Jackson?

And how did they know where Earth was?

They told the general they guessed they had a mole. But they had no idea who. He was not happy to hear that.

Elizabeth was anxious to start back for Atlantis - it would take another three grueling weeks to get back. But before she could even start up the campaign for the Daedalus’ departure, the gate spun up one day and the person calling was Major Lorne.

“We decided to start trying Earth once a day,” Lorne was saying to everyone crammed into the control room of the SGC, once they had all arrived. “We figured if you fixed whatever issue was going on over there, you’d get the gate back up and running. And I guess you did.”

“Lorne, you are a sight for sore eyes,” John said, earning a laugh from the younger man.

“How’s my city?” Elizabeth asked.

“All quiet. Enjoyable quiet. You’re not bringing McKay back with you, are you?”

Elizabeth was sure she heard Colonel Carter snickering somewhere behind her. “Unfortunately, yes,” she said.

“Hey, I’m _right here!_ ” Rodney exclaimed, though no one paid him any attention.

“There’s something else though, ma’am,” Lorne said, his voice turning more serious. “It’s Patrick. He’s not doing well.”

Elizabeth blinked. But... Patrick had died in 1991, on that street in Chicago. “How -?” she turned to Rodney.

“Of course. Atlantis is protected from temporal deviations, somehow.” Rodney scratched his chin. “I should have figured. That’s how we were protected from the changes Patrick had caused in the first place.”

Elizabeth turned back to the screen with Lorne’s image. “How bad?”

“Doc thinks it’s only a matter of days. Something about his DNA unravelling.”

Elizabeth looked at Landry. “If we want answers, Patrick is the best way to get them.”

“Are you saying you want to bring him here?”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “It’s going to take us weeks to get back to Atlantis. You heard Lorne; he’ll be dead by then.”

Landry sighed. “Alright. Let’s get a medical team to the gate room. Along with an armed escort.”

“Did you get that Lorne?”

“Yes ma’am.”

They left the gate connected while Carson prepped Patrick for travel and sent him through. He arrived on a gurney, bags of fluids that were hooked up to IVs piled around him. A heart monitor hung off the side. The medical team quickly whisked him away to the infirmary.

It was twenty minutes before they were allowed to see him. When they were let in, Elizabeth was shocked to see the amount of machinery he was hooked up to.

Doctor Lam explained that his body couldn’t run itself anymore. It was only a matter of time before his heart forgot how to beat.

Elizabeth and John were each on one side of his bed. Landry was there, at the foot, a respectful distance but still a presence to remind them of why Patrick was there in the first place.

“Patrick?” Elizabeth laid a hand on his arm.

Patrick’s eyes fluttered open. He managed a weak smile. “Hey, Mom.”

Elizabeth smiled back. “How are you?”

“Not so good,” he said. “But it’s okay, this is for the best.”

“What do you mean?” John asked.

Patrick turned to look at him. “As I started getting sicker, I started remembering things. Things about - where I come from.”

“Go on,” Elizabeth said.

“I’m not... really from the future. And I’m not really your son.”

“Yeah, we kind of figured that part out.” John said, not unkindly.

“I was on a mission. To kill you.”

Elizabeth shared a startled glance with John.

“But it didn’t work out, obviously,” Patrick continued. “Something went wrong with my DNA sequencing. The programming fell apart. It’s still not working right. This.. _Patrick_ personality was supposed to disappear once my original programming came to the forefront. Instead, both are inside my head now.”

“The Wraith, they made you?”

Patrick nodded. “They’re not very good with human DNA though, I think. They sent me back in time. I killed someone.”

“Daniel Jackson,” Elizabeth said.

“Yeah. And then, they put the new personality in. Patrick. They sent me to Atlantis. I was supposed to get friendly with you... and then kill you. But when the programming broke down, I attacked Teyla. That wasn’t supposed to happen. She was low on the priority list.”

“What was the point of all this?”

“New feeding ground for the Wraith,” Patrick said. “Earth. With no Stargate program, and Atlantis destroyed from the inside out - by me - it would have opened up a feeding frenzy for them.”

Elizabeth shuddered. “It doesn’t matter anyway. They obviously know where Earth is.”

“Not all of them,” Patrick said. Suddenly coughs wracked his body. He curled up slightly, hands covering his mouth. They came away with flecks of blood. “Oh.”

Elizabeth waved Doctor Lam over, who stuck a stethoscope on his chest and listened to his breath sounds. “His lungs are deteriorating. He’ll need to be on a ventilator soon.”

“We better hurry this up then,” Patrick rasped. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, Patrick, it was your programming. The Wraith made you and twisted your mind.”

“It’s been horrible. I thought I had this great life. A family that loved me. But it was all made up.” Patrick closed his eyes.

“Who came up with the story, Patrick? Who knew so much about us?” John asked.

Patrick opened his eyes again. “Aiden Ford.”

Elizabeth shook her head, not wanting to believe it. “Ford?”

“He’s been working with the Wraith. He needed the Wraith enzyme to survive. And the Wraith saw an opportunity.”

“Jesus,” John said.

“He was working with a small group of Wraith. Just two hive ships. They gave him the drugs he needed, and he got the Wraith what they needed. A new feeding ground.”

“How did he get our DNA?” Elizabeth asked.

“He snuck back into Atlantis using the time jumper. The Wraith had found it a while ago. But they couldn’t use it.”

Elizabeth shook her head. This was all a lot to take in. “Ford... he was with the Wraith?”

“Most likely,” Patrick said before another coughing fit overtook him.

“He’s probably dead then,” Landry chimed in from the end of the bed. “Both Wraith ships were completely destroyed.”

“I’m glad I didn’t kill you,” Patrick said, looking between John and Elizabeth. “You were the closest thing to a family I really had.”

Elizabeth swallowed thickly, feeling a lump forming in her throat. She couldn’t blame Patrick for what he was. He was a victim of the Wraith. Just like Ford was. She gripped Patrick’s hand.

But Patrick started convulsing, and Elizabeth found herself pushed away as the medical team got to work trying to save his life. But it didn’t matter; the degradation of his cells was too much. John put an arm around Elizabeth as they watched Patrick die.

***

“It’s been a hell of a few days,” Landry said.

“Try weeks,” Elizabeth replied. Landry smiled and nodded, acknowledging their ordeal before they even got to Earth.

“Well, think of your trip back to Atlantis as a vacation. Decompress.” Landry said the word in a way that made it sound like an order rather than a suggestion.

“Yes, sir,” John said. The rest of the Daedalus crew had already beamed up, including John’s team. He and Elizabeth were the last to go.

“What about Patrick’s body?”

“We’ll bury him, like you asked,” Landry said.

Elizabeth nodded. “Thank you.”

Landry stepped back. “Talk to you at our next scheduled appointment.”

“Looking forward to it, General,” said Elizabeth.

“We’re ready,” John said into his radio.

John gripped Elizabeth’s hand in his as the white light surrounded them. They found themselves back on the bridge of the Daedalus. The ship was a bit worse for wear, but it was stable enough to make the trip back to Atlantis.

Caldwell nodded in greeting, and they both left, unconsciously heading towards the hallway where both of their usual quarters were located. They said nothing the entire walk back, though they kept their hands together, using each other for support.

Through everything that had happened, one very good thing had come out of it. Elizabeth had found a measure of comfort and happiness with John Sheppard. Yes, she was his boss - but that hadn’t seemed to matter during this crisis. They’d both functioned as normal, as two parts of a team.

She just knew she didn’t want to be apart from him again. The rest would work itself out.

Eventually they reached the hallway that held both their quarters. They stood there, not sure which door to go into for a moment.

Elizabeth smiled. “Your place or mine?”


End file.
